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CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND 


AND 


A CHRISTMAS POSY 






CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND 


AND 

/ A CHRISTMAS POSY 



MRS. MOLESWORTH 

AUTHOR OF “ CARROTS,” “ GRANDMOTHER DEAR,” “ TELL ME A STORY ” 





ILLUSTRATED BY WALTER CRANE 



1893 


All rights reserved 



Copyright, 1S93, 

By MACMILLAN AND CO. 


New uniform edition set up and electrotyped October, 1893. 


Norfoooti $rc 38 : 

J. S. Cushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith. 
Boston, Mass., U.S.A. 


CONTENTS. 

CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 

CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 

The White Castle 1 

CHAPTER II. 

In the Fir-Woods 16 

CHAPTER III. 

The Mysterious Cottage 31 

CHAPTER IV. 

Fairy Housekeeping 43 

CHAPTER V. 

The Story of a King’s Daughter .... 60 

CHAPTER VI. 

The Story of a King’s Daughter — Continued . . 74 


v 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER VII. 

PAGE 

A Winding Stair and a Scamper .... 97 

CHAPTER VIII. 

The Squirrel Family 118 

CHAPTER IX. 

A Committee of Birds 136 

CHAPTER X. 

A Sail in the Air ....... 147 

CHAPTER XI. 

The Eagles’ Eyrie 160 

CHAPTER XII. 

A Vision of Christmas Trees 174 


CONTENTS. 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 

PAGE 

“Grandmother Dear’s” Old Watch . . . 1 

My Pink Pet 25 

An Honest Little Man 47 

The Six Poor Little Princesses .... 55 

Basil’s Violin 68 

The Missing Bon-bons 109 

Lost Rollo 129 

The Blue Dwarfs . 155 

vii 




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“ Rollo,” she exclaimed, her Eyes spark- 
ling, half with Fear, half with Ex- 
citement, “I do believe we’ve got into 
the Cottage of the Three Bears ” . Frontispiece 

The White Castle Vignette 

Rollo could not help noticing the Pretty 

Picture the Two made . . . To face page 52 

“It was the Prettiest Sight in the World 
to see Aureole in her Bower Every 


Morning ” 


u 


69 


“ Aureole could not help shivering as 
the Form of the Monster came in 
Sight ” 


u 


92 


I don’t think ever Children before had 
such Fun 


128 


IX 


X 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 


“All Right — we’re off now,” Waldo 

CALLED OUT, AND AT ONCE, WITH A STEADY 

Swing, the Queer Ship rose into the 

Air To face page 156 

“ See, Rollo,” cried Maia ; “ see, there is 

our Christmas Tree” .... “ 189 


\ 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


“Grandmother Dear’s” Old Watch. 

“ ‘ Come out here for a moment, Sylvia,’ she 
called to her sister ; ‘ we can see her as 
far as the corner ’” 

My Pink Pet. 

“ One day I was playing as usual in my own 
little room, when the door suddenly 
opened 

An Honest Little Man. 

“ Him has one, zank you ” 

The Six Poor Little Princesses. 

“ Ginevra found herself running upstairs, 
though not so fast as the evening before, 
for fear of dropping the precious parcel 
she held in her arms ” 

Basil’s Violin. 

“ In the pantry, when he took it into his head 
to pay a visit to the footmen ” . 


Frontispiece 

To face page 38 

“ 49 

“ 63 


88 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 


xii 

The Missing Bon-bons. 

“ ‘ Yes/ said Maggie, ‘ I was getting the 

parasol To face page 122 

Lost Rollo. 

“ He stopped when he got up to us, and 
began wagging his tail and rubbing his 
head against us in the sweetest way ” . “ 140 

The Blue Dwarfs. 


They were sliding down the branches of 
the tree in all directions ”... 


171 

































— Frontispiece. 





CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND 


BY 

MES. MOLESWOKTH 

AUTHOR OF “ CARROTS,” “ CUCKOO CLOCK,” “ TELL ME A STORY ” 



The White Castle 


ILLUSTRATED BY WALTER CRANE 


Ncfo fgorfc 

MACMILLAN AND CO. 

AND LONDON 

1893 


i 


All rights reserved 


First Edition 1884. Second Edition 1886. Reprinted 1891. 


)z-z ^00 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE WHITE CASTLE. 

“ The way was long, long, long, like the journey in a fairy tale.” 

Miss Ferrier. 

It was not their home. That was easy to be seen 
by the eager looks of curiosity and surprise on the 
two little faces inside the heavy travelling carriage. 
Yet the faces were grave, and there was a weary look 
in the eyes, for the journey had been long, and it was 
not for pleasure that it had been undertaken. The 
evening was drawing in, and the day had been a 
somewhat gloomy one, but as the light slowly faded, 
a soft pink radiance spread itself over the sky. They 
had been driving for some distance through a flat 
monotonous country; then, as the ground began to 
rise, the coachman relaxed his speed, and the children, 
without knowing it, fell into a half slumber. 

It was when the chariot stopped to allow the 
horses breathing time that they started awake and 
looked around them. The prospect had entirely 
changed. They were now on higher ground, for the 


2 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


road had wound up and up between the hills, which 
all round encircled an open space — a sort of high up 
valley, in the centre of which gleamed something 
white. But this did not at first catch the children’s 
view. It was the hills rising ever higher and higher, 
clothed from base to summit with fir-trees, innumer- 
able as the stars on a clear frosty night, that struck 
them with surprise and admiration. The little girl 
caught her breath with a strange thrill of pleasure, 
mingled with awe. 

“ Rollo,” she said, catching her brother’s sleeve, “ it 
is a land of Christmas trees ! ” 

Rollo gazed out for a moment or two without 
speaking. Then he gave a sigh of sympathy. 

“ Yes, Maia,” he said ; “ I never could have im- 
agined it. Fancy, only fancy, if they were all lighted 
up!” 

Maia smiled. 

“ I don’t think even the fairies themselves could do 
that,” she answered. 

But here their soft-voiced talking was interrupted. 
Two attendants, an elderly man and a young, rosy- 
faced woman, whose eyes, notwithstanding her healthy 
and hearty appearance, bore traces of tears, had got 
down from their seat behind the carriage. 

“Master Rollo,” — “My little lady,” they said, 
speaking together; “yonder is the castle. The coach- 
man has just shown it to us. This is the first sight 
of it.” 


THE WHITE CASTLE. 


3 


“ The white walls one sees gleaming through the 
trees,” said the girl pointing as she spoke. “ Marc 
cannot see it as plainly as I.” 

“ My eyes are not what they were,” said the old 
servant apologetically. 

“ I see it,” — “ and so do I,” exclaimed Rollo and 
Maia. “ Shall we soon be there ? ” 

“ Still an hour,” replied Marc ; “ the road winds 
about, he says.” 

“ And already we have been so many, many hours,” 
said Nanni, the maid, in doleful accents. 

“ Let us hope for a bright fire and a welcome when 
we arrive,” said old Marc cheerfully. “Provided 
only Master Rollo and Miss Maia are not too tired, 
we should not complain,” he added reprovingly, in a 
lower voice, turning to Nanni. But Maia had caught 
the words. 

“ Poor Nanni,” she said kindly. “ Don’t be 
so sad. It will be better when we get there, and 
you can unpack our things and get them arranged 
again.” 

“ And then Marc will have to leave us, and who 
knows how they will treat us in this outlandish 
country ! ” said Nanni, beginning to sob again. 

But just then the coachman looked round to 
signify that the horses were rested, and he was about 
to proceed. 

“ Get up, girl — quickly — get up,” said Marc, re- 
serving his scolding, no doubt, till they were again in 


4 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


their places and out of hearing of their little master 
and mistress. 

The coachman touched up his horses ; they seemed 
to know they were nearing home, and set off at a 
brisk pace, the bells on their harness jingling merrily 
as they went. 

The cheerful sound, the quicker movement, nad 
its effect on the children’s spirits. 

“ It is a strange country,” said Maia, throwing her- 
self back among the cushions of the carriage, as if 
tired of gazing out. “ Still, I don’t see that we need 
be so very unhappy here.” 

“Nor I,” said Rollo. “Nanni is foolish. She 
should not call it an outlandish country. That to us 
it cannot be, for it is the country of our ancestors.” 

“ But so long ago, Rollo,” objected Maia. 

“ That does not matter. W e are still of the same 
blood,” said the boy sturdily. “We must love, 
even without knowing why, the place that was home 
to them — the hills, the trees — ah, yes, above all, 
those wonderful forests. They seem to go on for 
ever and ever, like the stars, Maia.” 

“Yet I don’t think them as pretty as forests of 
different kinds of trees,” said Maia thoughtfully. 
“ They are more strange than beautiful. Fancy them 
always, always there, in winter and summer, seeing 
the sun rise and set, feeling the rain fall, and the snow- 
flakes flutter down on their branches, and yet never 
moving, never changing. I wouldn’t like to be a tree.” 


THE WHITE CASTLE. 


5 


“ But they do change,” said Rollo. “ The branches 
wither and then they sprout again. It must be like 
getting new clothes, and very interesting to watch, I 
should think. Fancy how funny it would be if our 
clothes grew on us like that.” 

Maia gave a merry little laugh. 

“ Yes,” she said ; “ fancy waking up in the morning 
and looking to see if our sleeves had got a little bit 
longer, or if our toes were beginning to be covered ! 
I suppose that’s what the trees talk about.” 

“ Oh, they must have lots of things to talk about,” 
said Rollo. “ Think of how well they must see the 
pictures in the clouds, being so high up. And the 
stars at night. And then all the creatures that live 
in their branches, and down among their roots, — the 
birds, and the squirrels, and the field-mice, and 
the — ” 

“Yes,” interrupted Maia; “you have rather nice 
thoughts sometimes, Rollo. After all, I dare say it 
is not so very stupid to be a tree. I should like the 
squirrels best of all. I do love squirrels ! Can you 
see the castle any better now, Rollo ? It must be at 
your side.” 

“ I don’t see it at all just now,” said Rollo, after 
peering out for some moments. “I’m not sure but 
what it’s got round to your side by now, Maia.” 

“No, it hasn’t,” said Maia. “It couldn’t have 
done. It’s somewhere over there, below that rounded 
hill-top — we’ll see it again in a minute, I dare say. 


6 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


Ah, see, Rollo, there’s the moon coming out ! I do 
hope we shall often see the moon here. It would be 
so pretty — the trees would look nearly black. But 
what are you staring at so, Rollo ? ” 

Rollo drew in his head again. 

“ There must be somebody living over there,” he 
said. “I see smoke rising — you can hardly see it 
now, the light is growing so dim, but I’m sure I did 
see it. There must be a little cottage there some- 
where among the trees.” 

“Oh, how nice!” exclaimed Maia. “We must 
find it out. I wonder what sort of people live in it — 
gnomes or wood-spirits, perhaps ? There couldn’t be 
any real people in such a lonely place.” 

“ Gnomes and wood-spirits don’t need cottages, 
and they don’t make fires,” replied Rollo. 

“How do you know?” and Rollo’s answer was 
not quite ready. “I dare say gnomes like to come 
up above sometimes, for a change ; and I dare say 
the wood-spirits are cold sometimes, and like to warm 
themselves. Anyway I shall try to find that cottage 
and see who does live in it. I hope she will let us 
go walks as often as we wish, Rollo.” 

“She — who?” said the boy dreamily. “ Oh, our 
lady cousin ! Yes, I hope so ; ” but he sighed as he 
spoke, and this time the sigh was sad. 

Maia nestled closer to her brother. 

“I think I was forgetting a little, Rollo,” she said. 
“ I can’t think how I could forget, even for a moment, 


THE WHITE CASTLE. 


7 


all our troubles. But father wanted us to try to be 
happy.” 

“ Yes, I know he did,” said Rollo. “ I am very 
glad if you can feel happier sometimes, Maia. But 
for me it is different ; I am so much older.” 

“ Only two years,” interrupted Maia. 

“Well, well, I feel more than that older. And 
then I have to take care of you till father comes 
home ; that makes me feel older too.” 

“ I wish we could take care of each other,” said 
Maia; “I wfish we were going to live in a little 
cottage by ourselves instead of in Lady Venelda’s 
castle. We might have Nanni just to light the fires 
and cook the dinner, except the creams and pastry 
and cakes — those I would make myself. And she 
might also clean the rooms and wash the dishes — I 
cannot bear washing dishes — and all the rest we 
would do ourselves, Rollo.” 

“ There would not be much else to do,” said Rollo, 
smiling. 

“Oh yes, there would. We should need a cow, 
you know, and cocks and hens ; those we should take 
care of ourselves, though Nanni might churn. You 
have no idea how tiring it is to churn ; I tried once 
at our country-house last year, and my arms ached 
so. And then there would be the garden ; it must 
be managed so that there should always, all the year 
round, be strawberries and roses. Wouldn’t that be 
charming, Rollo?” 


8 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“ Yes ; but it certainly couldn’t be done out of 
fairyland,” said the boy. 

“ Never mind. What does it matter? When one 
is wishing one may wish for anything.” 

“ Then, for my part, I would rather wish to be at 
our own home again, and that our father had not had 
to go away,” said Rollo. 

“ Ah, yes ! ” said Maia ; and then she grew silent, 
and the grave expression overspread both children’s 
faces again. 

They had meant to look out to see if the white- 
walled castle was once more within sight, but it was 
now almost too dark to see anything, and they re- 
mained quietly in their corners. Suddenly they felt 
the wheels roll on to a paved way ; the carriage went 
more slowly, and in a moment or two they stopped. 

“ Can we have arrived ? ” said Maia. But Rollo, 
looking out, saw that they had only stopped at a 
postern. An old man, bent and feeble, came out of 
an ivy-covered lodge, round and high like a light- 
house, looking as if it had once been a turret attached 
to the main building, and pressed forward as well as 
he could to open the gate, which 'swung back rustily 
on its hinges. The coachman exchanged a few words 
in the language of the country, which the children 
understood but slightly, and then the chariot rolled 
on again, slowly still, for the road ascended, and 
even had there been light there would have been 
nothing to see but two high walls, thickly covered 


THE WHITE CASTLE. 


9 


with creeping plants. In a moment or two they 
stopped again for another gate to be opened — this 
time more quickly — then the wheels rolled over 
smoother ground, and the coachman drew up before 
a doorway, and a gleam of white walls flashed before 
the children’s eyes. 

The door was already open. Marc and Nanni got 
down at the farther side, for a figure stood just inside 
the entrance, which they at once recognised as that 
of the lady of the house come forward to welcome 
her young relatives. Two old serving-men, older 
than Marc and in well-worn livery, let down the lad- 
der of steps and opened the chariot door. Rollo got 
out, waited a moment to help his sister as she fol- 
lowed him, and then, leading her by the hand, bowed 
low before their cousin Yenelda. 

u Welcome,” she said at once, as she stooped to 
kiss Maia’s forehead, extending her hand to Rollo at 
the same time. Her manner was formal but not un- 
kindly. “ You must be fatigued with your journey,” 
she said. “ Supper is ready in the dining-hall, and 
then, no doubt, you will be glad to retire for the 
night.” 

“ Yes, thank you, cousin,” said both children, and 
then, as she turned to show them the way, they 
ventured to look up at their hostess, though they 
were still dazzled by the sudden light after the dark- 
ness outside. Lady Yenelda was neither young nor 
old, nor could one well imagine her ever to have 


10 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


been, or as ever going to be, different from what she 
was. She was tall and thin, simply dressed, but 
with a dignified air as of one accustomed to command. 
Her hair was gray, and surmounted by a high white 
cap, a number of keys attached to her girdle jingled 
as she went ; her step was firm and decided, but not 
graceful, and her voice was rather hard and cold, 
though not sharp. Her face, as Rollo and Maia saw 
it better when she turned to see if they were follow- 
ing her, was of a piece with her figure, pale and thin, 
with nothing very remarkable save a well-cut rather 
eagle nose and a pair of very bright but not tender 
blue eyes. Still she was not a person to be afraid 
of, on the whole, Rollo decided. She might not 
be very indulgent or sympathising, but there was 
nothing cruel or cunning in her face and general 
look. 

“You may approach the fire, children,” she said, 
as if this were a special indulgence ; and Rollo and 
Maia, who had stood as if uncertain what to do, drew 
near the enormous chimney, where smouldered some 
glowing wood, enough to send out a genial heat, 
though it had but a poor appearance in the gigantic 
grate, which looked deep and wide enough to roast 
an ox. 

Their eyes wandered curiously round the great 
room or hall in which they found themselves. It, 
like the long corridor out of which opened most of 
the rooms of the house, was painted or washed over 


THE WHITE CASTLE. 


11 


entirely in white — the only thing which broke the 
dead uniformity being an extraordinary number of 
the antlered heads of deer, fastened high up at regu- 
lar intervals. The effect was strange and barbaric, 
but not altogether unpleasing. 

“ What quantities of deer there must be here ! ” 
whispered Maia to her brother. “See, even the 
chairs are made of their antlers.” 

She was right. What Rollo had at first taken 
for branches of trees rudely twisted into chair backs 
and feet were, in fact, the horns of several kinds 
of deer, and he could not help admiring them, though 
he thought to himself it was sad to picture the num- 
ber of beautiful creatures that must have been slain 
to please his ancestors’ whimsical taste in furniture ; 
but he said nothing, and Lady Venelda, though she 
noticed the children’s observing eyes, said nothing 
either. It was not her habit to encourage conversa- 
tion with young people. She had been brought up 
in a formal fashion, and devoutly believed it to be 
the best. 

At this moment a bell clanged out loudly in the 
courtyard. Before it had ceased ringing the door 
opened and two ladies, both of a certain age, both 
dressed exactly alike, walked solemnly into the room, 
followed by two old gentlmen, of whom it could not 
be said they were exactly alike, inasmuch as one was 
exceedingly tall and thin, the other exceedingly short 
and stout. These personages the children came after- 


12 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


wards to know were the two ladies-in-waiting, or 
dames de compagnie, of Lady Venelda, her chaplain, 
and her physician. They all approached her, and 
bowed, and curtseyed ; then drew back, as if waiting 
for her to take her place at the long table before 
seating themselves. Lady Venelda glanced at the 
children. 

“How comes it?” she began, but then, seeming to 
remember something, stopped. “To be sure, they 
have but just arrived,” she said to herself. Then 
turning to one of the old serving-men : “ Conduct 
the young gentleman to his apartment,” she said, 
“that he may arrange his attire before joining us 
at supper. And you, Delphine,” she continued to 
one of the ancient damsels, who started as if she 
were on wires, and Lady Venelda had touched the 
spring, “have the goodness to perform the same 
office for this young lady, whose waiting-maid will 
be doubtless in attendance. For this once,” she 
added in conclusion, this time addressing the chil- 
dren, “ the repast shall be delayed for ten minutes ; 
but for this once only. Punctuality is a virtue that 
cannot be exaggerated.” 

Rollo and Maia looked at each other; then both 
followed their respective guides. 

“ Is my lady cousin angry with me ? ” Maia ven- 
tured timidly to inquire. “We did not know — we 
could not help it. I suppose the coachman came as 
fast as he could.” 


THE WHITE CASTLE. 


13 


“ Perfectly, perfectly, Mademoiselle,” replied Del- 
phine in a flutter. Poor thing, she had once been 
French — long, long ago, in the days of her youth, 
which she had well-nigh forgotten. But she still 
retained some French expressions and the habit of 
agreeing with whatever was said to her, which she 
believed to show the highest breeding. “ Of course 
Mademoiselle could not help it.” 

“ Then why is my cousin angry ? ” said Maia, again 
looking up with her bright brown eyes. 

“My lady Yenelda angry?” repeated Delphine, 
rather embarrassed how to reconcile her loyalty to 
her patroness, to whom she was devotedly attached, 
with courtesy to Maia. “Ah, no ! My lady is never 
angry. Pardon my plain speaking.” 

“ Oh, then, I mistook, I suppose,” said Maia con- 
siderably relieved. “I suppose some people seem 
angry when they’re not, till one gets to know them.” 

And then Maia, who was of a philosophic turn of 
mind, made Nanni hurry to take off her wraps and 
arrange her hair, that she might go down to supper : 
“for I’m dreadfully hungry,” she added, “and it’s 
very funny downstairs, Nanni,” she went on. “ It’s 
like something out of a book, hundreds of years ago. 
I can quite understand now why father told us to be 
so particular always to say ‘our lady c'ousin,’ and 
things like that. Isn’t it funny, Nanni ? ” 

Nanni’s spirits seemed to have improved. 

“It is not like home, certainly, Miss Maia,” she 


14 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


replied. “ But I dare say we shall get on pretty well. 
They seem very kind and friendly downstairs in the 
kitchen, and there was a very nice supper getting 
ready. And then, I’m never one to make the worst 
of things, whatever that crabbed old Marc may say.” 

Maia was already on her way to go. She only 
stopped a moment to glance round the room. It was 
large, but somewhat scantily furnished. The walls 
white, like the rest of the house, the floor polished 
like a looking-glass. Maia’s curtainless little bed in 
one corner looked disproportionately small. The 
child gave a little shiver. 

“ It feels very cold in this big bare room,” she said. 
“ I hope you and Rollo aren’t far off.” 

“ I don’t know for Master Rollo,” Nanni replied. 
“ But this is my room,” and she opened a door lead- 
ing into a small chamber, neatly but plainly arranged. 

“ Oh, that’s very nice,” said Maia, approvingly. 
“If Rollo’s room is not far off, we shall not feel at all 
lonely.” 

Her doubts were soon set at rest, for, as she opened 
the door, Rollo appeared coming out of a room just 
across the passage. 

“ Oh, that’s your room,” said Maia. “ I didn’t see 
where you went to. I was talking to Mademoiselle 
Delphine. I’m so glad you’re so near, Rollo.” 

“ Yes,” said Rollo. “ These big bare rooms aren’t 
like our rooms at home. I should have felt rather 
lonely if I’d been quite at the other end of the house.” 


THE WHITE CASTLE. 


15 


Then they took each other’s hand and went slowly 
down the uncarpeted white stone staircase. 

“ Rollo,” said Maia, nodding her head significantly 
as if in the direction of the dining-hall, “do you think 
we shall like her? Do you think she’s going to be 
kind?” 

Rollo hesitated. 

“I think she’ll be kind. Father said she would. 
But I don’t think she cares about children, and we’ll 
have to be very quiet, and all that.” 

“ The best thing will be going long walks in the 
woods,” said Maia. 

“ Yes, if she’ll let us,” replied Rollo doubtfully. 

“Well, I’ll tell you how to do. We’ll show her 
we’re awfully good and sensible, and then she won’t 
be afraid to let us go about by ourselves. Oh, Rollo, 
those lovely Christmas-tree woods! We can’t feel 
dull if only we may go about in the woods ! ” 

“Well, then, let’s try, as you say, to show how 
very good and sensible we are,” said Rollo. 

And with this wise resolution the two children 
went in to supper. 


CHAPTER II. 


IN THE FIR-WOODS. 

. . . ‘ ‘ Gloomy shades, sequestered deep, 

. . . . whence ©ne could only see 

Stems thronging all around. ” ... 

Keats. 

Supper was a formal and stately affair. The 
children were placed one on each side of their cousin, 
and helped to such dishes as she considered suitable, 
without asking them what they liked. But they 
were not greedy children, and even at their own 
home they had been accustomed to much more strict- 
ness than is nowadays the case, my dear children, for 
those were still the days when little people were 
expected to be “seen but not heard,” to “speak when 
they were spoken to,” but not otherwise. So Rollo 
and Maia were not unduly depressed, especially as 
there was plenty of amusement for their bright eyes 
in watching the queer, pompous manners of Lady 
Venelda’s attendants, and making notes to discuss 
together afterwards on the strange and quaint china 
and silver which covered the table, and even in mar- 
velling at the food itself, which, though all good, was 
much of it perfectly new to them. 

Now and then their hostess addressed a few words 


16 


IN THE FIR-WOODS. 


17 


to them about their journey, their father’s health 
when they had left him, and such things, to which 
Rollo and Maia replied with great propriety. Lady 
Venelda seemed pleased. 

“They have been well brought up, I see. My 
cousin has not neglected them,” she said in a low 
voice, as if speaking to herself, which was a habit of 
hers. Rollo and Maia exchanged signals with each 
other at this, which they had of course overheard, 
and each understood as well as if the other had said 
it aloud, that the meaning of the signals was, “ That 
is right. If we go on like this we shall soon get 
leave to ramble about by ourselves.” 

After supper Lady Venelda told the children to 
follow her into what she chose to call her retiring- 
room. This was a rather pretty room at the extreme 
end of the long white gallery, but unlike that part 
of the castle which the children had already seen. 
The walls were not white, but hung with tapestry, 
which gave it a much warmer and more comfortable 
look. One did not even here, however, get rid of 
the poor deer, for the tapestry all round the room 
represented a hunting-scene, and it nearly made Maia 
cry, when she afterwards examined it by daylight, to 
see the poor chased creatures, with the cruel dogs 
upon them and the riders behind lashing their horses, 
and evidently shouting to the hounds to urge them 
on. It was a curious subject to have chosen for a 
lady’s boudoir, but Lady Venelda’s tastes were guided 


18 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


by but one rule — the most profound respect and 
veneration for her ancestors, and as they had seen fit 
thus to decorate the prettiest room in the castle, it 
would never have occurred to her to alter it. 

She seated herself on an antlered couch below one 
of the windows, which by day commanded a beautiful 
view of the wonderful woods, but was now hidden 
by rather worn curtains of a faded blue, the only 
light in the room coming from a curiously-shaped oil 
lamp suspended from the ceiling, which illumined 
but here and there parts of the tapestry, and was far 
too dim to have made it possible to read or work. 
But it was not much time that the lady of the castle 
passed in her bower, and seldom that she found 
leisure to read, for she was a very busy and practical 
person, managing her large possessions entirely for 
herself, and caring but little for the amusements 
or occupations most ladies take pleasure in. She 
beckoned to the children to come near her. 

“ You are tired, I dare say,” she said graciously. 
“ At your age I remember the noble Count, my 
father, took me once a journey lasting two or three 
days, and when I arrived at my destination I slept 
twelve hours without awaking.” 

“Oh, but we shall not need to sleep as long as 
that,” said Rollo and Maia together. “We shall be 
quite rested by to-morrow morning ; ” at which the 
Lady Venelda smiled, evidently pleased, even 
though they had spoken so quicky as almost to in- 
terrupt her. 


IN THE FIR-WOODS. 


19 


“ That is well,” she said. “ Then I shall inform 
yon of how I propose to arrange your time, at once, 
though I had intended giving orders that you should 
not be awakened till eight o’clock. At what hour 
do you rise at home ? ” 

“ At seven, lady cousin,” said Rollo. 

“ That is not very early,” she replied. “ However, 
as it is but for a time that you are confided to my 
care, I cannot regulate everything exactly as I could 
wish.” 

“We would like to get up earlier,” said Maia 
hastily. “ Perhaps not to-morrow ,” she added. 

“ I will first tell you my wishes,” said Lady Ven- 
elda loftily. “ At eight o’clock prayers are read to 
the household in the chapel. You will already have 
had some light refreshment. At nine you will have 
instruction from Mademoiselle Delphine for one 
hour. At ten the chaplain will take her place for 
two hours. At twelve you may walk in the grounds 
round the house for half an hour. At one we dine. 
At two you shall have another hour from Mademoi- 
selle Delphine. From three to five you may walk 
with your attendants. Supper is at eight ; and dur- 
ing the evening you may prepare your tasks for the 
next day.” 

Rollo and Maia looked at each other. It was not 
so very bad ; still it sounded rathei severe. Rollo 
took courage. 

“ If we get up earlier and do our tasks, may we 
stay out later sometimes ? ” he inquired. 


20 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“ Sometimes — if the weather is very fine and you 
have been very industrious,” their cousin replied. 

“ And,” added Maia, emboldened by this success, 
“may we sometimes ramble alone all about the 
woods? We do so love the woods,” she continued, 
clasping her hands. 

Now, if Lady Venelda herself had a weakness, it 
was for these same woods. They were to her a sort 
of shrine dedicated to the memory of her race, for 
the pine forest of that country had been celebrated 
as far back as there was any record of its existence. 
So, though she was rather startled at Maia’s proposal, 
she answered graciously still : 

“ They are indeed beautiful, my child. Beautiful 
and wonderful. There have they stood in their 
solemn majesty for century after century, seeing 
generation after generation of our race pass away 
while yet they remain. They and I alone, my chil- 
dren. I, the last left of a long line ! ” 

Her voice trembled, and one could almost have 
imagined that a tear glittered in her blue eyes. 
Maia, and Rollo too, felt very sorry for her. 

“ Dear cousin,” said the girl, timidly touching her 
hand, “ are we not a little little, relations to you ? 
Please don’t say you are all alone. It sounds so 
very sad. Do let Rollo and me be like your little 
boy and girl.” 

Lady Venelda smiled again, and this time her 
face really grew soft and gentle. 


IN THE FIR-WOODS. 


21 


“ Poor children,” she said, in the peculiar low 
voice she always used when speaking to herself, and 
apparently forgetting the presence of others, 44 poor 
children, they too have suffered. They have no 
mother ! ” Then turning to Maia, who was still 
gently stroking her hand : 44 1 thank you, my child, 
for your innocent sympathy,” she said, in her usual 
tone. 44 1 rejoice to have you here. You will cheer 
my solitude, and at the same time learn no harm, I 
feel sure, from the associations of this ancient house.” 

Maia did not quite understand her, but as the 
tone sounded kind, she ventured to repeat, as she 
kissed her cousin’s hand for good-night, 44 And you 
will let us ramble about the woods if we are very 
good, won’t you? And sometimes we may have a 
whole holiday, mayn’t we?” 

Lady Venelda smiled. 

44 All will depend on yourselves, my child,” she said. 

But Rollo and Maia went upstairs to bed very 
well satisfied with the looks of things. 

They meant to wake very early, and tried to coax 
Nanni to promise to go out with them in the morn* 
ing before prayers, but Nanni was cautious, and 
would make no rash engagements. 

44 1 am very tired, Miss Maia,” she said, 44 and I am 
sure you must be if you would let yourself think so. 
I hope } r ou will have a good long sleep.” 

She was right. After all, the next morning Rollo 
and Maia had hardly time to finish their coffee and 


22 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


rolls before the great bell in the courtyard clanged 
for prayers, and they had to hurry to the chapel not 
to be too late. Prayers over, they were taken in 
hand by Mademoiselle Delphine, and then by the 
old chaplain, till, by twelve o’clock, when they were 
sent out for a little fresh air before dinner, they felt 
more sleepy and tired than the night before. 

“ I don’t care to go to the woods now,” said Maia 
dolefully. 44 1 am so tired — ever so much more tired 
than with lessons at home.” 

44 So am I,” said Rollo. 44 1 don’t know what is the 
matter with me,” and he seated himself disconso- 
lately beside his sister on a bench overlooking the 
stiff Dutch garden at one side of the castle. 

44 Come — how now, my children?” said a voice 
beside them ; 44 why are you not running about, 
instead of sitting there like two old invalids ? ” 

44 We are so tired,” said both together, looking up 
at the new-comer, who was none other than the short, 
stout old gentleman who had been introduced to them 
as Lady Venelda’s physician. 

44 Tired ; ah, well, to be sure, you have had a long 
journey.” 

44 It is not only that. We weren’t so tired this 
morning, but we’ve had such a lot of lessons.” 
44 Mademoiselle Delphine’s French is very hard,” 
said Maia ; 44 and Mr. — I forget his name — the 
chaplain says the Latin words quite differently from 
what I’ve learnt before,” added Rollo. 


IN THE FIR- WOODS. 


23 


The old doctor looked at them both attentively. 

“Come, come, my children, you must not lose 
heart. What would you say to a long afternoon in 
the woods and no more lessons to-day, if I were to 
ask the Lady Venelda to give you a holiday?” 

The effect was instantaneous. Both children 
jumped up and clapped their hands. 

“ Oh, thank you, thank you, Mr. — Doctor,” they 
said, for they had not heard his name. “ Yes, that 
is just what we would like. It did not seem any 
good to go to the woods for just an hour or two. 
And, oh, Mr. Doctor, do ask our cousin to give us 
one holiday a week — we always have that at home. 
It is so nice to wake up in the morning and know 
there are no lessons to do ! And we should be so 
good all the other days.” 

“ Ah, well,” said the old doctor, “ we shall see.” 

But he nodded his head, and smiled, and looked so 
like a good-natured old owl, that Rollo and Maia felt 
very hopeful. 

At dinner, where they took their places as usual 
at each side of their cousin, nothing was said till the 
close. Then Lady Venelda turned solemnly to the 
children : 

“You have been attentive at your lessons, I am 
glad to hear,” she said ; “ but you are doubtless still 
somewhat tired with your journey. My kind phy- 
sician thinks some hours of fresh air would do you 
good. I therefore shall be pleased for you to spend 


24 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


all the afternoon in the woods — there will be no 
more lessons to-day.” 

“ Oh, thank you, thank you,” repeated the chil- 
dren, and Maia glanced at her cousin with some 
thought of throwing her arms round her and kissing 
her, but Lady Venelda looked so very stiff and 
stately that she felt her courage ebb. 

“ It is better only to kiss her when we are alone 
with her,” she said afterwards to Rollo, in which he 
agreed. 

But they forgot everything except high spirits and 
delight when, half an hour later, they found them- 
selves with Nanni on their way to the longed-for 
woods. 

“ Which way shall we go ? ” said Maia ; and in- 
deed it was a question for consideration. For it was 
not on one side only that there were woods, but on 
every side, far as the eye could reach, stretched out 
the wonderful forests. The white castle stood on 
raised ground, but in the centre of a circular valley, 
so that to reach the outside world one had first to 
descend and then rise again ; so the entrance to the 
woods was sloping, for the castle hill was bare of 
trees, which began only at its base. 

“ Which way ? ” repeated Rollo ; “ I don’t see that 
it matters. We get into the woods every way.” 

“Except over there,” said Maia, pointing to the 
road by which they had come, gleaming like a white 
ribbon among the trees, which had been thinned a 
little in that direction. 


IN THE FIR-WOODS. 


25 


“Well, we don’t want to go there,” said Rollo, 
but before he Ijad time to say more Maia interrupted 
him. 

“ Oh, Rollo, let’s go the way that we saw the little 
cottage. No, I don’t mean that we saw the cottage, 
but we saw the smoke rising, and we were sure there 
was a cottage. It was — let me see — ” and she tried 
to put herself in the right direction ; “ yes, it was on 
my left hand — it must be on that side,” and she 
pointed where she meant. 

Rollo did not seem to care particularly about the 
real or imaginary cottage, but as to him all roads 
were the same in this case, seeing all led to the 
woods, he made no objection, and a few minutes 
saw the little party, already in the shade of the 
forest, slowly making their way upwards. It was 
milder than the day before ; indeed, for early spring 
it was very mild. The soft afternoon sunshine came 
peeping through the branches, the ground was beauti- 
fully dry, and their steps made a pleasant crackling 
sound, as their feet broke the innumerable little 
twigs which, interspersed with moss and the re- 
mains of last year’s leaves, made a nice carpet to 
walk on. 

“ Let us stand still a moment,” said Maia, “ and 
look about us. “ How delicious it is ! What flowers 
there will be in a little while ! Primroses, I am sure, 
and violets, and later on periwinkle and cyclamen, I 
dare say.” 


26 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


A sigh from Nanni interrupted her. 

“What is the matter?” said the children. 

“I am so tired, Miss Maia,” said poor Nanni. “I 
haven’t got over the journey, and I was so afraid of 
being late this morning that I got up I don’t know 
how early — they told me in the kitchen that their 
lady was so angry if any one was late. I think if I 
were to sit down on this nice mossy ground I should 
really go to sleep.” 

“ Poor Nanni!” said Maia, laughing. “Well, do 
sit down, only I think you’d better not go to sleep ; 
you might catch cold.” 

“ It’s beautifully warm here among the trees, 
somehow,” said Nanni. Well, then, shall I just stay 
here and you and Master Rollo play about? You 
won’t go far ? ” 

“ You would get a nice scolding if we were lost,” 
said Rollo mischievously. 

“ Don’t tease her, Rollo,” said Maia ; adding in a 
lower tone, “ If you do, she’ll persist in coming with 
us, and it will be such fun to run about by ourselves.” 
Then turning to Nanni, “Don’t be afraid of us, 
Nanni; we shan’t get lost. You may go to sleep 
for an hour or two if you like.” 

The two children set off together in great glee. 
Here and there among the trees there were paths, or 
what looked like paths, some going upwards till quite 
lost to view, some downwards, — all in the most 
tempting zigzag fashion. 


IN THE FIR-WOODS. 


27 


“ I should like to explore all the paths one after 
the other, wouldn’t you ? ” said Maia. 

“ I expect they all lead to nowhere in particular,” 
said Rollo, philosophically. 

“ But we want to go somewhere in particular,” said 
Maia ; “ I want to find the cottage, you know. I am 
sure it must be somewhere about here.” 

“ Upwards or downwards — which do you think ? ” 
said Rollo. “ I say, Maia, suppose you go downwards 
and I upwards, and then we can meet again here and 
say if we’ve found the cottage or had any adventures, 
like the brothers in the fairy tales.” 

“ No,” said Maia, drawing nearer Rollo as she 
spoke ; “ I don’t want to go about alone. You know, 
though the woods are so nice they’re rather lonely, 
and there are such queer stories about forests always. 
There must be queer people living in them, though 
we don’t see them. Gnomes and brownies down 
below, very likely, and wood-spirits, perhaps. But 
I think about the gnomes is the most frightening, 
don’t you, Rollo ? ” 

“ I don’t think any of it’s frightening,” he replied. 
But he was a kind boy, so he did not laugh at Maia, 
or say any more about separating. “ Which way 
shall we go, then ? ” 

“Oh, we’d better go on upwards. There can’t 
be much forest downwards, for we’ve come nearly 
straight up. We’d get out of the wood directly.” 

They went on climbing therefore for some way, 


28 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


but the ascent became quickly slighter, and in a 
short time they found themselves almost on level 
ground. 

“We can’t have got to the top,” said Rollo. 
“ This must be a sort of ledge on the hillside. 
However, I begin to sympathise with Nanni — it’s 
nice to get a rest,” and he threw himself down at 
full length as he spoke. Maia quickly followed his 
example. 

“We shan’t do much exploring at this rate,” she 
said. 

“No,” Rollo agreed; “but never mind. Isn’t it 
nice here, Maia? Just like what father told us, 
isn’t it? The scent of the fir-trees is so delicious 
too.” % 

It was charmingly sweet and peaceful, and the 
feeling of mystery caused by the dark shade of the 
lofty trees, standing there in countless rows as they 
had stood for centuries, the silence only broken by 
the occasional dropping of a twig or the flutter of a 
leaf, impressed the children in a way they could not 
have put in words. It was a sort of relief when a 
slight rustle in the branches overhead caught their 
attention, and looking up, their quick eyes saw the 
bright brown, bushy tail of a squirrel whisking out' of 
sight. 

Up jumped Maia, clapping her hands. 

“ A squirrel, Rollo, did you see ? ” 

“ Of course I did, but you shouldn’t make such a 


IN THE FIR-WOODS. 


29 


noise. We might have seen him again if we’d been 
quite quiet. I wonder where his home is.” 

“ So do I. How I should like to see a squirrel’s 
nest and all the little ones sitting in a row, each with 
a nut in its two front paws ! How nice it would be 
to have the gift of understanding all the animals say 
to each other, wouldn’t it ? ” 

“Yes,” said Rollo, but he stopped suddenly. 
“ Maia,” he exclaimed, “ I believe I smell burning 
wood ! ” and he stood still and sniffed the air a little. 
“ I shouldn’t wonder if we’re near the cottage.” 

“ Oh, do come on, then,” said Maia eagerly. “ Yes 
— yes ; I smell it too. I hope the cottage isn’t on 
fire, Rollo. Oh, no ; see, it must be a bonfire,” for, 
as she spoke, a smouldering heap of leaves and dry 
branches came in sight some little way along the 
path, and in another moment, a few yards farther on, 
a cottage actually appeared. 

Such an original-looking cottage ! The trees had 
been cleared for some distance round where it stood, 
and a space enclosed by a rustic fence of interlaced 
branches had been planted as a garden. A very 
pretty little garden too. There were flower-beds in 
front, already gay with a few early blossoms, and 
neat rows of vegetables and fruit-bushes at the back. 
The cottage was built of wood, but looked warm 
and dry, with deep roof and rather small high-up 
windows. A little path, bordered primly by a thick 
growing mossy-like plant, led up to the door, which 


80 


C HRISTM AS-TB EE LAND. 


was closed. No smoke came out of tlie chimney, 
not the slightest sound was to be heard. The chil- 
dren looked at each other. 

“ What a darling little house ! ” said Maia in a 
whisper. “But, Rollo, do you think there’s anybody 
there ? Can it be enchanted, perhaps ? ” 

Rollo went on a few steps and stood looking at the 
mysterious cottage. There was not a sound to be 
heard, not the slightest sign of life about the place ; 
and yet it was all in such perfect order that it was 
impossible to think it deserted. 

“ The people must have gone out, I suppose,” said 
Rollo. 

“ I wonder if the door is locked,” said Maia. “ I 
am so thirsty, Rollo.” 

“ Let’s see,” Rollo answered, and together the two 
children opened the tiny gate and made their way up 
to the door. Rollo took hold of the latch ; it yielded 
to his touch. 

“Its not locked,” he said, looking back at his 
sister, and he gently pushed the door a little way 
open. “ Shall I go in ? ” he said. 

Maia came forward, walking on her tiptoes. 

“ Oh, Rollo,” she whispered, “ suppose it’s en- 
chanted, and that we never get out again.” 

But all the same she crept nearer and nearer to 
the tempting half-open door. 


CHAPTER III. 


THE MYSTERIOUS COTTAGE. 

‘“A pretty cottage ’tis indeed,’ 

Said Rosalind to Fanny, 

‘ But yet it seems a little strange, 

I trust there’s naught uncanny.’ ” 

The Wood-Fairies. 

Rollo pushed a little more, and still a little. No 
sound was heard — no voice demanded what they 
wanted ; they gathered courage, till at last the door 
stood sufficiently ajar for them to see inside. It was 
a neat, plain, exceedingly clean, little kitchen which 
stood revealed to their view. Rollo and Maia, with 
another glance around them, another instant’s hesita- 
tion, stepped in. 

The floor was only sanded, the furniture was of 
plain unvarnished deal, yet there was something 
indescribably dainty and attractive about the room. 
There was no fire burning in the hearth, but all was 
ready laid for lighting it, and -on the table, covered 
with a perfectly clean, though coarse cloth, plates 
and cups for a meal were set out. It seemed to be 
for three people. A loaf of brownish bread, and a 
jug filled with milk, were the only provisions to be 
seen. Maia stepped forward softly and looked long- 
ingly at the milk. 


31 


32 


CHRISTMAS-TEEE LAND. 


“ Do you think it would be wrong to take some, 
Rollo ? ” she said. “I am so thirsty, and they must 
be nice people that live here, it looks so nice.” But 
just then, catching sight of the three chairs drawn 
round the table, as well as of the three cups and 
three plates upon it, she drew back with a little 
scream. “ Hollo” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling, 
half with fear, half with excitement, “ I do believe 
we’ve got into the cottage of the three bears” 

Rollo burst out laughing, though, to tell the truth, 
he was not quite sure if his sister was in fun or 
earnest. 

“Nonsense, Maia!” he said. “Why, that was 
hundreds of years ago. You don’t suppose $ie bears 
have gone on living ever since, do you ? Besides, it 
wouldn’t do at all. See, there are two smaller chairs 
and one arm-chair here. Two small cups and one 
big one. It’s just the wrong way for the bears. It 
must be two children and one big person that live 
here.” 

Maia seemed somewhat reassured. 

“Do you think I may take a drink of milk, then ? ” 
she said. “ I am so thirsty.” 

“ I should think you might,” said Rollo. “ You 
see we can come back ahd pay for it another day 
when they’re at home. If we had any money we 
might leave it here on the table, to show we’re 
honest. But we haven’t any.” 

“No,” said Maia, as she poured out some milk, 


THE MYSTERIOUS COTTAGE. 


33 


taking care not to spill any on the table-cloth, “ not a 
farthing. Ob, Rollo,” she continued, “ such delicious 
milk ! Won’t you have some?” 

44 No ; I’m not thirsty,” he replied. 44 See, Maia, 
there’s another little kitchen out of this — for wash- 
ing dishes in — a sort of scullery,” for he had opened 
another door as he spoke. 

44 And, oh, Rollo,” said Maia, peering about, 44 see, 
there’s a little stair. Oh, do let’s go up.” 

It seemed a case of 44 in for a penny, in for a 
pound.” Having made themselves so much at home, 
the children felt inclined to go a little farther. 
They had soon climbed the tiny staircase and were 
rewarded for their labour by finding two little bed- 
rooms, furnished just alike, and though neat and ex- 
quisitely clean, as plain and simple as the kitchen. 

44 Really, Rollo,” said Maia, 44 this house might have 
been built by the fairies for us. two, and see, isn’t it 
odd? the beds are quite small, like ours. I don’t 
know where the big person sleeps whom the arm- 
chair and the big cup downstairs are for.” 

44 Perhaps there’s another room,” said Rollo, but 
after hunting about they found there was nothing 
more, and they came downstairs again to the kitchen, 
more puzzled than ever as to whom the queer little 
house could belong to. 

44 We’ll come back again, the very first day we 
can,” said Maia, 44 and tell the people about having 
taken the milk,” and then they left the cottage, care- 


34 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


fully closing the door and gate behind them, and 
made their way back to where they had left Nanni. 
It took them longer than they had expected — either 
they mistook their way, or had wandered farther 
than they had imagined. But Nanni had suffered 
no anxiety on their account, for, even before they got 
up to her, they saw that she was enjoying a peaceful 
slumber. 

“ Poor thing ! ” said Maia. “ She must be very tired. 
I never knew her so sleepy before. Wake up, Nanni, 
wake up,” she went on, touching the maid gently on 
the shoulder. Up jumped Nanni, rubbing her eyes, bat 
looking nevertheless very awake and good-humoured. 

“ Such a beautiful sleep as I’ve had, to be sure,” 
she exclaimed. 

“Then you haven’t been wondering what had be- 
come of us ? ” said Rollo. 

“ Bless you, no, sir,” replied Nanni. “ You haven’t 
been very long away, surely ? I never did have such 
a beautiful sleep. There must be something in the 
air of this forest that makes one sleep. And such 
lovely dreams ! I thought I saw a lady all dressed 
in green — dark green and light green, — for all the 
world like the fir-trees in spring, and with long light 
hair. She stooped over me and smiled, as if she was 
going to say something, but just then I awoke and 
saw Miss Maia.” 

“ And what do you think we've seen ? ” said Maia. 
“ The dearest little cottage you can fancy. Just like 


THE MYSTERIOUS COTTAGE. 35 

what Rollo and I would like to live in all by our- 
selves. And there was nobody there ; wasn’t it 
queer, Nanni ? ” 

Nanni was much impressed, but when she had 
heard all about the children’s adventure she grew 
a little frightened. 

“ I hope no harm will come of it,” she said. “ If it 
were a witch’s cottage ; ” and she shivered. 

“ Nonsense, Nanni,” said Hollo ; “ witches don’t 
have cottages like that, — all so bright and clean, 
and delicious new milk to drink.” 

But Nanni was not so easily consoled. “ I hope no 
harm may come of it,” she repeated. 

By the lengthening shadows they saw that the 
afternoon was advancing, and that, if they did not 
want to be late for dinner, they must make the best 
of their way home. 

“ It would not do to be late to-day — the first time 
they have let us come out by ourselves,” said Maia 
sagety. “ If we are back in very good time perhaps 
Lady Venelda will soon let us come again.” 

They were back in very good time, and went down 
to the dining-hall, looking very fresh and neat, as 
their cousin entered it followed by her ladies. 

“That is right,” said Lady Venelda graciously. 

“ You look all the better for your walk, my little 
friends,” said the old doctor. “ Come, tell us what 
you think of our forests, now you have seen the 
inside of them.” 


36 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“ They are lovely,” said both children enthusiasti- 
cally. “ I should like to live there,” Maia went on ; 
“ and, oh, cousin, we saw the dearest little cottage, so 
neat and pretty ! I wonder who lives there.” 

“You went to the village, then,” Lady Yenelda 
replied. “I did not think you would go in that 
direction.” 

“ No,” said Rollo, “ we did not go near any village. 
It was a cottage quite alone, over that way,” and he 
pointed in the direction he meant. 

Lady Yenelda looked surprised and a little annoyed. 

“ I know of no cottage by itself. I know of no 
cottages, save those in my own village. You must 
have been mistaken.” 

“ Oh, no, indeed,” said Maia, “ we could not be 
mistaken, for we — ” 

“ Young people should not contradict their elders,” 
said Lady Yenelda freezingly, and poor Maia dared 
say no more. She was very thankful when the old 
doctor came to the rescue. 

“ Perhaps,” he said good-naturedly, “ perhaps our 
young friends sat down in the forest and had a* little 
nap, in which they dreamt of this mysterious -cottage. 
You are aware, my lady, that the aromatic odours of 
our delightful woods are said to have this tendency.” 

Rollo and Maia looked at each other. “ That’s true,” 
the look seemed to say, for the old doctor’s words made 
them think of Nanni’s beautiful dream. Not that they 
had been asleep, oh, no, that was impossible. 


THE MYSTERIOUS COTTAGE. 


37 


Everything about the cottage had been so real and 
natural. And besides, as Maia said afterwards to 
Rollo, “ People don’t dream together of exactly the 
same things at exactly the same moment, as if they 
were reading a story-book,” with which Rollo of 
course agreed. 

Still, at the time, they were not sorry that their 
cousin took up the doctor’s idea, for she had seemed 
so very vexed before he suggested it. 

“ To be sure,” she replied graciously ; “ that ex- 
plains it. I have often heard of that quality of our 
wonderful woods. No doubt — tired as they were too 
— the children fell asleep without knowing it. Just so ; 
but young people must never contradict their elders.” 

The children dared not say any more, and, indeed, 
just then it would have been no use. 

“ She would not have believed anything we said 
about it,” said Maia as they went upstairs to their 
own rooms. “But it isn’t nice not to be allowed to 
tell anything like that. Father always believes us.” 

“ Yes,” said Rollo thoughtfully. “ I don’t quite 
understand why Lady Yenelda should have taken us 
up so about it. I don’t much like going back to the 
cottage without leave — at least without telling her 
about it, and yet we must go. It would be such a 
shame not to pay for the milk.” 

“ Yes,” said Maia, “ and they might think there had 
been robbers there while they were out. Oh, we 
must go back ! ” 


38 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


But their perplexities were not decreased by what 
Nanni had to say to them. 

“ Oh, Master Rollo and Miss Maia ! ” she exclaimed, 
“ we should be very thankful that no harm came to 
you this afternoon. I’ve been speaking to them in 
the kitchen about where you were, and, oh, but it 
must be an uncanny place ? No one knows who 
lives there, though ’tis said about ’tis a witch. And 
the queer thing is, that ’tis but very few that have 
ever seen the cottage at all. Some have seen it and 
told the others about it, and when they’ve gone to 
look, no cottage could they find. Lady Venelda’s 
own maid is one of those who was determined to find 
it, but she never could. And my Lady herself was 
so put out about it that she set off to look for it one 
day, — for no one has a right to live in the woods just 
hereabout without her leave, — and she meant to turn 
the people, whoever they were, about their business. 
But ’twas all for no use. She sought far and wide ; 
ne’er a cottage could she find, and she wandered 
about the woods near a whole day for no use. Since 
then she is that touchy about it that, if any one dares 
but to mention a cottage hereabouts, save those in 
the village, it quite upsets her.” 

Rollo and Maia looked at each other, but some- 
thing made them feel it was better to say little 
before Nanni. 

“ So I do beg you never to speak about the cottage 
to my Lady,” Nanni wound up. 


THE MYSTERIOUS COTTAGE. 


39 


“We don’t want to speak about it to her,” said 
Rollo dryly. 

“ And you won’t want to go there again, I do 
hope,” the maid persisted. “ Whatever would I do if 
the witch got hold of you and turned you perhaps 
into blue birds or green frogs, or something dreadful ? 
Whatever would your dear papa say to me ? Oh, 
Miss Maia, do tell Master Rollo never to go there 
again.” 

“ Don’t be afraid,” said Maia ; “ we’ll take care of 
ourselves. I can quite promise you we won’t be 
turned into frogs or birds. Bift don’t talk any more 
about it to-night, Nanni. I’m so sleepy, and I don’t 
want to dream of horrible witches.” 

And this was all the satisfaction Nanni could get. 

But the next morning Rollo and Maia had a 
grand consultation together. They did not like the 
idea of not going to the cottage again, for they felt 
it would not be right not to explain about the milk, 
and they had besides a motive, which Nanni’s strange 
story had no way lessened — that of great curiosity. 

“ It would be a shame not to pay for the milk,” 
said Rollo. “ I should feel uncomfortable whenever 
I thought of it.” 

“ So should I,” said Maia ; “ even more than you, 
for it was I that drank it ! And I do so want to find 
out who lives there. There must be children, I am 
sure, because of the little beds and chairs and cups, 
and everything.” 


40 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“ If they are all for children, I don’t know what 
there is for big people,” said Rollo. “ Perhaps they’re 
some kind of dwarfs that live there.” 

“ Oh, what fun ! ” said Maia, clapping her hands. 
“ Oh, we must go back to find out ! ” 

She started, for just as she said the words a voice 
behind them was heard to say, “ Go back ; go back 
where, my children ? ” 

They were walking up and down the terrace on 
one side of the castle, where Mademoiselle Delphine 
had sent them for a little fresh air between their 
lessons, and they were so engrossed by what they 
were talking of that they had not heard nor seen the 
old doctor approaching them. It was his voice that 
made Maia start. Both children looked rather 
frightened when they saw who it was, and that he 
had overheard what they were saying. 

“ Go back where ? ” he repeated. “ What are you 
talking about ? ” 

The children still hesitated. 

“ We don’t like to tell you, sir,” said Rollo frankly. 
“You would say it was only fancy, as you did last 
night, and we know it wasn’t fancy.” 

“ Oh, about the cottage ? ” said the old doctor 
coolly. “ You needn’t be afraid to tell me about it, 
fancy or no fancy. Fancy isn’t a bad thing some- 
times.” 

“But it wasn't fancy,” said both together ; “only 
we don’t like to talk about it for fear of vexing our 


THE MYSTERIOUS COTTAGE. 


41 


cousin, and we don’t like to go back there without 
leave, and yet we should go back.” 

“ Why should you ? ” asked their old friend. 

Then Maia explained about the milk, adding, too, 
the strange things that Nanni had heard in the 
servants’ hall. The old doctor listened attentively. 
His face looked quite pleased and good-humoured, 
and yet they saw he was not at all inclined to laugh 
at them. When they had finished, to the children’s 
surprise he said nothing, but drew out a letter from 
his pocket. 

“ Do you know this writing ? ” he said. 

Rollo and Maia exclaimed eagerly, “ Oh, yes ; it 
is our father’s. Do you know him ? Do you know 
our father, Mr. Doctor ? ” 

“ I have known him,” said the old man, quietly 
drawing the contents out of the cover, “I have 
known him since he was much smaller than either 
of you is now. It was by my advice he sent you 
here for a time, and see what he gave me for you.” 

He held up as he spoke a small folded paper, 
which had been inside the other letter. It bore the 
words: “For Rollo and Maia — to be given them 
when you think well.” “ I think well now,” he went 
on, “ so read what he says, my children.” 

They quickly opened the paper. There was not 
much written inside — just a few words : 

“Dear children,” they were, “if you are in any 
difficulty, ask the advice of my dear old friend and 


42 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


adviser, the doctor, and you may be sure you will do 
what will please your father.” 

For a moment or two the children were almost 
too surprised to speak. It was Rollo who found his 
voice first. 

“ Give us your advice now, Mr. Doctor. May we 
go back to the cottage without saying any more 
about it to Lady Venelda? ” 

“Yes,” said the old doctor. “You may go any- 
where you like in the woods. No harm will come to 
you. It is no use your saying any more about the 
cottage to Lady Venelda. She cannot understand 
it because she cannot find it. If you can find it you 
will learn no harm there, and your father would be 
quite pleased for you to go.” 

“Then do you think we may go soon again?” 
asked the children eagerly. 

“You will always have a holiday once a week,” 
said the doctor. “ It would not be good for you to 
go too often. Work cheerfully and well when you 
are at work, my children. I will see that you have 
your play.” 


CHAPTER IV. 


FAIRY HOUSEKEEPING. 

“Neat, like bees, as sweet and busy, 

Aired and set to rights the house ; 

Kneaded cakes of whitest wheat — 

Cakes for dainty mouths to eat.” 

Goblin Market. 

The next few days passed rather slowly for the 
children. There was no talk of another expedition 
to the woods. And they had a good many lessons 
to do, so that short walks in the grounds close round 
the castle were all they had time for. They only 
saw the old doctor at meal-times, but he always 
smiled at them, as if to assure them he was not for- 
getting them, and to encourage them to patience. 

There was one person who certainly did not 
regret the children’s not returning to the woods, and 
that person was Nanni. What she had heard from 
the servants about the mysterious cottage had 
thoroughly frightened her ; she felt sure that if they 
went there again something dreadful would happen 
to them, and yet she was so devoted to them that, 
however terrified, she would never have thought 
of not following them wherever they chose to go. 
But, as day after day went by, and no more was said 
43 


44 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


about it, she began to breathe freely. Her distress 
was therefore the greater when, one afternoon just 
six days after the last ramble, Rollo and Maia rushed 
upstairs after their lessons in the wildest spirits. 

“ Hurrah for the doctor ! ” shouted Rollo, and 
Maia was on the point of joining him, till she remem- 
bered that if they made such a noise Lady Venelda 
would be sending up to know what was the matter. 

“We’re to have a whole holiday to-morrow, 
Nanni,” they explained, “ and we’re going to spend 
it in the woods. You’re to come with us, and carry 
something in a basket for us to eat.” 

“Very well, Miss Maia,” replied Nanni, prudently 
refraining from mentioning the cottage, in hopes that 
they had forgotten about it, “ that will be very nice, 
especially if it is a fine day, but if not, of course you 
would not go.” 

“I don’t know that,” said Rollo mischievously; 
“ green frogs don’t mind rain.” 

“Nor blue birds,” added Maia. “They could fly 
away if they did.” 

At these fateful words poor Nanni grew deadly 
pale. “Oh, my children,” she cried; “oh, Master 
Rollo and Miss Maia, don’t, I beg of you, joke about 
such things. And oh, I entreat you, don’t go looking 
for that witch’s cottage. Unless you promise me 
you won’t, I shall have to go and tell my Lady, 
however angry she is ! ” 

“No such thing, my good girl,” said a voice at the 


FAIRY HOUSEKEEPING. 


45 


door. “You needn’t trouble your head about such 
nonsense. Rollo and Maia will go nowhere where 
they can get any harm. I know everything about 
the woods better than you or those silly servants 
downstairs. Lady Venelda would only tell you not 
to interfere with what didn’t concern you if you went 
saying anything to her. Go off to the wood with 
your little master and mistress without misgivings, 
my good girl, and if the air makes you sleepy don’t 
be afraid to take a nap. No harm will come to you 
or the children.” 

Nanni stood still in astonishment — the tears in 
her eyes and her mouth wide open, staring at the 
old doctor, for it was he, of course, who had followed 
the children upstairs and overheard her remon- 
strances. She looked .so comical that Rollo and 
Maia could scarcely help laughing at her, as at last 
she found voice to speak. 

“ Of course if the learned doctor approves I have 
nothing to say,” she said submissively ; though she 
could not help adding, “ and I only hope no harm 
will come of it.” 

Rollo and Maia flew to the doctor. 

“Oh, that’s right!” they exclaimed. “We are so 
glad you have spoken to that stupid Nanni. She 
believes all the rubbish the servants here speak.” 

The doctor turned to Nanni again. 

“ Don’t be afraid,” he repeated. “ All will be 
right, you will see. But take my advice, do not say 


46 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


anything to the servants here about the amusements 
of your little master and mistress. Least said soon- 
est mended. It would annoy Lady Venelda for 
it to be supposed they were allowed to go where any 
harm could befall them.” 

“ Very well, sir,” replied Nanni, meekly enough, 
though she still looked rather depressed. She could 
not help remembering that before he left, old Marc, 
too, had warned her against too much chattering. 

The next morning broke fine and bright. The 
children started in the greatest spirits, which even 
Nanni, laden with a basket of provisions for their 
dinner, could not altogether resist. And before they 
went, Lady Yenelda called them into her boudoir, 
and kissing them, wished them a happy holiday. 

“ It’s all that nice old doctor,” said Maia. “You 
see, Rollo, she hasn’t told us not to go to the cottage 
— he’s put it all right, I’m sure.” 

“Yes, I expect so,” Rollo agreed; and then in a 
minute or two he added : “ Do you know, Maia, 
though of course I don’t believe in witches turning 
people into green frogs, or any of that nonsense, I do 
think there’s something funny about that cottage.” 

“ What sort of something ? What do you mean ? ” 
asked Maia, looking intensely interested. “Do you 
mean something to do with fairies ? ” 

“I don’t know — I’m not sure. But we’ll see,” 
said Rollo. 

“ If we can find it ! ” said Maia. 


FAIRY HOUSEKEEPING. 


47 


“ I’m sure we shall find it. It’s just because of 
that that I think there’s something queer. It must 
be true that some people can’t find it.” 

“Naughty people?” asked Maia apprehensively. 
“ For you know, Rollo, we’re not always quite good.” 

“ No, I don’t mean naughty people. I mean more 
people who don’t care about fairies and wood-spirits, 
and things like that — people who call all that non- 
sense and rubbish.” 

“ I see,” said Maia ; “ perhaps you’re right, Rollo. 
Well, anyway, that won’t stop us finding it, for we 
certainly do care dreadfully about fairy things, don’t 
we, Rollo? But what about Nanni?” she went on, 
for Nanni was some steps' behind, and had not heard 
what they were saying. 

“Oh, as to Nanni,” said Rollo coolly, “ I shouldn’t 
wonder if she took a nap again, as the old doctor 
said. Anyway, she can’t interfere with us after his 
giving us leave to go wherever we liked.” 

They stopped a little to give Nanni time to come 
up to them, and Rollo offered to help her to carry 
the basket. It was not heavy, she replied, she could 
carry it quite well alone, but she still looked rather 
depressed in spirits, so the children walked beside 
her, talking merrily of the dinner in the woods they 
were going to have, so that by degrees Nanni forgot 
her fears of the mysterious cottage, and thought no 
more about it. 

It was even a more beautiful day than the one, 


48 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


now nearly a week ago, on which they had first 
visited the woods. There was more sunshine to-day, 
and the season was every day farther advancing; 
the lovely little new green tips were beginning to 
peep out among the darker green which had already 
stood the wear and tear of a bitter winter and many 
a frosty blast. 

“ How pretty the fir-trees^ look ! ” said Maia. 
“They don’t seem the least dim or gloomy in the 
sunshine, even though it only gets to them in little 
bits. See there, Rollo,” she exclaimed, pointing to 
one which got more than its share of the capricious 
gilding. “ Doesn’t it look like a real Christmas-tree? ” 

“ Like a lighted-up one, you mean,” said Rollo. 
“ It would be a very nice Christmas-tree for a family 
of giants, and if I could climb up so high, I’d be just 
about the right size for the angel at the top. Let’s 
spread our table at the foot of this tree — it looks so 
nice and dry. I’m sure, Nanni,” he went on, “ you’ll 
be glad to get rid of your basket.” 

“It’s not heavy, Master Rollo,” said Nanni ; “but, 
all the same, it is queer how the minute I get into 
these woods I begin to be so sleepy — you’d hardly 
believe it.” 

Rollo and Maia looked at each other with a smile, 
but they said nothing. 

“We’d better have our dinner anyway,” observed 
Rollo, kneeling down to unfasten the basket, of 
which the contents proved very good indeed. 


FAIRY HOUSEKEEPING. 


49 


“What fun it is, isn’t it?” said Maia, when they 
had eaten nearly as much cold chicken and bread, 
and cakes and fruit as they wanted. “ What fun it 
is to be able to do just as we like, and say just what 
we like, instead of having to sit straight up in our 
chairs like two dolls, and only speak when we’re 
spoken to, and all that — how nice it would be if we 
could have our dinner y in the woods every day ! ” 

“ We’d get tired of it after a while, I expect,” said 
Rollo. “ It wouldn’t be nice in cold weather, or if it 
rained.” 

“ I wouldn’t mind,” said Maia. “ I’d build a warm 
little hut and cover it over with moss. We’d live 
like the squirrels.” 

“ How do you know how the squirrels live ? ” said 
Rollo. 

But Maia did not answer him. Her ideas by this 
time were off on another flight — the thought of a 
little hut had reminded her of the cottage. 

“I want to go farther into the wood,” she said, 
jumping up. “ Come, Rollo, let’s go and explore a 
little. Nanni, you can stay here and pack up the 
basket again, can’t you ? ” 

“ Then you won’t be long, Miss Maia,” began 
Nanni, rather dolefully. “ You won’t — ” 

“We won’t get turned into green frogs, if that’s 
what you’re thinking of, Nanni,” interrupted Rollo. 
“ Do remember what the old doctor said, and don’t 
worry yourself. We shall come to no harm. And 


50 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


as you’re so sleepy, why shouldn’t you take a nap as 
you did the other day ? Perhaps you’ll dream of the 
beautiful lady again.” 

Nanni looked but half convinced. 

“ It’s not my fault, anyway,” she said. “ I’ve done 
all I could. I may as well stay here, for I know you 
like better to wander about by yourselves. But I’m 
not going to sleep — you needn’t laugh, Master Rollo, 
I’ve brought my knitting with me on purpose,” and 
she drew out a half stocking and ball of worsted with 
great satisfaction. 

The children set off. They were not sure in what 
direction lay the cottage, for they had got confused 
in their directions, but they had a vague idea that by 
continuing upwards, for they were still on sloping 
ground, they would come to the level space where 
they had seen the smoke of the burning leaves. They 
were not mistaken, for they had walked but a very 
few minutes when the ground ceased to ascend, and 
looking round they felt sure that they recognised the 
look of the trees near the cottage. 

“ This way, Rollo, I am sure,” said Maia, darting 
forward. She was right — in another moment they 
came out of the woods just at the side of the cottage. 
It looked just the same as before, except that no fire 
was burning outside, and instead, a thin column of 
smoke rose gently from the little chimney. The 
gate of the little garden was also open, as if inviting 
them to enter. 


FAIRY HOUSEKEEPING. 


51 


“ They must be at home, whoever they are,” said 
Rollo. “There is a fire in the kitchen, you see, 
Maia.” 

Maia grew rather pale. Now that they were act- 
ually on the spot, she began to feel afraid, though of 
what she scarcely knew. Nanni’s queer hints came 
back to her mind, and she caught hold of Rollo’s arm, 
trembling. 

“ Oh, Rollo,” she exclaimed, “ suppose it’s true ? 
About the witch, I mean — or suppose they have 
found out about the milk and are very angry ? ” 

“ Well, we can’t help it if they are,” replied Rollo 
sturdily. “We’ve done the best thing we could in 
coming back to pay for it. You’ve got the little 
purse, Maia ? ” 

“Oh, yes, it’s safe in my pocket,” she said. 
“ But — ” 

She stopped, for just at that moment the door of the 
cottage opened and a figure came forward. It was 
no “ old witch,” no ogre or goblin, but a young girl 
— a little older than Maia she seemed — who stood 
there with a sweet, though rather grave expression 
on her face and in her soft dark eyes, as she said 
gently, “Welcome — we have been expecting you.” 

“ Expecting us ? ” exclaimed Maia, who generally 
found her voice more quickly than Rollo ; “ how can 
you have been expecting us ? ” 

She had stepped forward a step or two before her 
brother, and now stood looking up in the girl’s face 


52 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


with wonder in her bright blue eyes, while she tossed 
back the long fair curls that fell round her head. 
Boys are not very observant, but Rollo could not 
help noticing the pretty picture the two made. The 
peasant maiden with her dark plaits and brown 
complexion, dressed in her short red skirt, and little 
loose white bodice fastened round the waist with 
a leather belt, and Maia with a rather primly-cut 
frock and frilled tippet of flowered chintz, such as 
children then often wore, and large flapping shady 
hat. 

“ How can you have been expecting us ? ” Maia 
repeated. 

Rolla came forward in great curiosity to hear the 
answer. 

The girl smiled. 

“ Ah ! ” she said, “ there are more ways than one of * 
knowing many things that are to come. Waldo 
heard you had arrived at the white castle, and my 
godmother had already told us of you. Then we 
found the milk gone, and — ” 

Rollo interrupted this time. “We were so vexed,” 
he said, “not to be able to explain about it. We 
have wanted to come every day since to — ” “ To 

pay for it,” he was going to say, but something in the 
girl’s face made him hesitate. 

“Not to pay for it,” she said quickly, though 
smiling again, as if she read his words in his face ; 
“don’t say that. We were so glad it was there for 


































FAIRY HOUSEKEEPING. 


53 


you. Besides, it is not ours — Waldo and I would 
have nothing but for our godmother. But come in 
— come in — Waldo is only gone to fetch some 
brushwood, and our godmother, too, will be here 
soon.” 

Too surprised to ask questions — indeed, there 
seemed so many to ask that they would not have 
known where to begin — Rollo and Maia followed the 
girl into the little kitchen. It looked just as neat 
and dainty as the other day — and brighter too, for a 
charming little fire was burning in the grate, and a 
pleasant smell of freshly-roasted coffee was faintly 
perceived. The table was set out as before, but with 
the addition of a plate of crisp-looking little cakes or 
biscuits, and in place of two small cups and saucers 
there were four , as well as the larger one the children 
had seen before. This was too much for Maia to 
behold in silence. She stopped short, and stared in 
still greater amazement. 

44 Why ! ” she exclaimed. 44 You don’t mean to 
say — why, just fancy, I don’t even know your 
name.” 

44 Silva,” replied the girl quietly, but with an 
amused little smile on her face. 

44 Silva,” continued Maia, 44 you don't mean to say 
that you’ve put out those two cups for us — that you 
knew we’d come.” 

44 Godmother did,” said Silva. 44 She told us yester- 
day. So we’ve been very busy to get all our work 


54 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


done, and have a nice holiday afternoon. Waldo has 
nothing more to do after he’s brought in the wood, 
and I baked these little cakes this morning and 
roasted the coffee. Godmother told us to have it 
ready early, so that there’ll be plenty of time before 
you have to go. Oh, here’s Waldo!” she exclaimed 
joyfully. 

Rollo and Maia turned round. There, in the door- 
way stood a boy, his cap in his hand, a pleasant smile 
on his bright ruddy face. 

“Welcome, my friends,” he said, with a kind of 
gravity despite his smile. 

He was such a nice-looking boy — just about as 
much bigger than Rollo as Sylva was bigger than 
Maia. You could have told at once that they were 
brother and sister — there was the same bright and 
yet serious expression in their eyes ; the same healthy, 
ruddy complexion ; the same erect carriage and care- 
less grace in Waldo in his forester’s clothes as in 
Silva with her pretty though simple peasant maiden 
dress. They looked what they were, true children 
of the beautiful woods. 

“ Thank you,” said Rollo and Maia, after a 
moment’s hesitation. They did not know what else 
to say, Silva glanced at them. She seemed to have 
a curious power of reading in their faces the thoughts 
that were passing in their minds. 

“ Don’t think it strange,” she said quickly, “ that 
Waldo calls you thus ‘m y friends,’ and that we both 


FAIRY HOUSEKEEPING. 


55 


speak to you as if we had known you for long. We 
know we are not the same as you — in the world, I 
mean, we could not be as we are here with you, but 
this is not the world,” and here she smiled again — 
the strange, bright, and yet somehow rather sad 
smile which made her face so sweet — “and so we 
need not think about it. Godmother said it was best 
only to remember that we are just four children 
together, and when you see her you will feel that 
what she says is always best.” 

“We don’t need to see her to feel that we like 
you to call us your friends,” exclaimed Rollo and 
Maia together. The words came from their hearts, 
and yet somehow they felt surprised at being able to 
say them so readily. Rollo held out his hand to 
Waldo, who shook it heartily, and little Maia going 
close up to Silva said softly, “ Kiss me, please, dear 
Silva.” 

And thus the friendship was begun. 

The first effect of this seemed to be the setting 
loose of Maia’s tongue. 

“ There are so many things I want to ask you,” 
she began. “May I? Do you and Waldo live here 
alone, and have you always lived here ? And does 
your godmother live here, for the other day when we 
went all over the cottage we only saw two little beds, 
and two little of everything, except the big chair and 
the big cup and saucer. And what — ” 

Here Rollo interrupted her. 


56 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“Maia,” he said, “you really shouldn’t talk so fast. 
Silva could not answer all those questions at once if 
she wanted ; and perhaps she doesn’t want to answer 
them all. It’s rude to ask so much.” 

Maia looked up innocently into Silva’s face. 

“ I didn’t mean to be rude,” she said, “ only you 
see I can’t help wondering.” 

“We don’t mind your asking anything you like,” 
Silva replied. “ But I don’t think I can tell you all you 
want to know. You’ll get to see for yourself. Waldo 
and I have lived here a long time, but not always ! ” 

“ But your godmother,” went on Maia ; “I do so 
want to know about her. Does she live here ? Is it 
she that the people about call a witch ? ” Maia low- 
ered her voice a little at the last word, and looked up 
at Rollo apprehensively. Would not he think speak- 
ing of witches still ruder than asking questions? 
But Silva did not seem to mind. 

“I dare say they do,” she said quietly. “They 
don’t know her, you see. I don’t think she would 
care if they did call her a witch. But now the coffee 
is ready,” for she had been going on with her prepa- 
rations meanwhile, “ will you sit round the table ? ” 

“We are not very hungry,” said Rollo, “for we 
had our dinner in the wood. But the coffee smells 
so good,” and he drew in his chair as he spoke. Maia, 
however, hesitated. 

“Would it not be more polite, perhaps,” she said 
to Silva, “to wait a little for your godmother? You 
said she would be coming soon.” 


FAIRY HOUSEKEEPING. 


57 


44 She doesn’t like us to wait for her,” said Silva. 
44 We always put her place ready, for sometimes she 
comes and sometimes she doesn’t — we never know. 
But she says it is best just to go on regularly, and 
then we need not lose any time.” 

44 1 don’t think I should like that way,” said Maia. 
44 W ould you, Rollo ? If father was coming to see 
us, I would like to know it quite settledly ever so 
long before, and plan all about it.” 

44 But it isn’t quite the same,” said Silva. 44 Your 
father is far away. Our godmother is never very far 
away — it is just a nice feeling that she may come 
any time, like the sunshine or the wind.” 

44 Well, perhaps it is,” said Maia. 44 1 dare say I 
shall understand when I’ve seen her. How very 
good this coffee is, Silva, and the little cakes ! Did 
your godmother teach you to make them so nice?” 

44 Not exactly,” said Silva; 44 but she made me like 
doing things well. She made me see how pretty it 
is to do things rightly — quite rightly, just as they 
should be.” 

44 And do you always do things that way?” ex- 
claimed Maia, very much impressed. 44 J don’t ; I’m 
very often dreadfully untidy, and sometimes my ex- 
ercise-books are full of blots and mistakes. I wish I 
had had your godmother to teach me, Silva.” 

44 Well, you’re going to have her now. She teaches 
without one knowing it. But Tm not perfect, nor is 
Waldo! Indeed we’re not — and if we thought we 
were it would show we weren’t.” 


58 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“Besides,” said Waldo, “all the things we have to 
do are very simple and easy. We don’t know any- 
thing about the world, and all we should have to do 
and learn if we lived there.” 

“ Should you like to live there ? ” asked Maia. 
Both Waldo and Silva hesitated. Then both, with 
the grave expression in their eyes that came there 
sometimes, replied, “I don’t know;” but Waldo in a 
moment or two added, “ If it had to be, it would be 
right to like it.” 

“ Yes,” said Silva quietly. But something in their 
tone made both Rollo and Maia feel puzzled. 

“I do believe you’re both half fairies,” exclaimed 
Maia with a little impatience; “I can’t make you 
out at all.” 

Rollo felt the same, though, being more consider- 
ate than his little sister, he did not like to express 
his feelings so freely. But Waldo and Silva only 
laughed merrily. 

“ No, no, indeed we’re not,” they said more than 
once, but Maia did not seem convinced by any means, 
and she was going on to maintain that no children 
who weren't half fairies could live like that by them- 
selves and manage everything so beautifully, when 
a slight noise at the door and a sudden look of 
pleasure on Silva’s face made her stop short and 
look round. 

“Here she is,” exclaimed Waldo and Silva to- 
gether. “ Oh, godmother, darling, we are so glad. 


FAIRY HOUSEKEEPING. 


59 


And they have come, Rollo and Maia have come, just 
as you said.” 

And thus saying they sprang forward. Their god- 
mother stooped and kissed both on the forehead. 

“ Dear children,” she said, and then she turned to 
the two strangers, who were gazing at her with all 
their eyes. 

“Can it be she the silly people about call a witch?” 
Maia was saying to herself. “ It might be, and yet I 
don’t know. Could any one call her a witch ? ” 

She was old — of that there was no doubt, at least 
so it seemed at the first glance. Her hair was per- 
fectly white, her face was very pale. But her eyes 
were the most wonderful thing about her. Maia 
could not tell what colour they were. They seemed 
to change with every word she said, with every new 
look that came over her face. Old as she was they 
were very bright and beautiful, very soft and sweet 
too, though not the sort of eyes — Maia said after- 
wards to Rollo — “ that I would like to look at me if 
I had been naughty.” Godmother was not tall ; when 
she first came into the little kitchen she seemed to 
stoop a little, and did not look much bigger than 
Silva. And she was all covered over with a dark 
green cloak, almost the colour of the darkest of the 
foliage of the fir-trees. 

“ One would hardly see her if she were walking 
about the woods,” thought Maia, “ except that her 
face and hair are so white, they would gleam out 
like snow.” 


CHAPTER V. 

THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER. 

“ Gentle and sweet is she ; 

As the heart of a rose is her heart, 

As soft and as- fair and as sweet.” 

Liliput Lectures. 

Godmother turned to the little strangers. The 
two pairs of blue eyes were still fixed upon her. Her 
eyes looked very kind and gentle, and yet very “see- 
ing,” as she caught their gaze. 

“I believe,” thought Maia, “that she can tell all 
we are thinking ; ” and Rollo had something of the 
same idea, yet neither of them felt the least afraid 
of her. 

“ Rollo and Maia, dear children, too,” she said, “ we 
are so pleased to see you.” 

“ And we are very pleased to be here-,” said they ; 
“but — ” and then they hesitated. 

“ You are puzzled how it is I know your names, 
and all about you, are you not?” she said, smiling. 
“ I puzzle most children at first ; but isn’t it rather 
nice to be puzzled ? ” 

This was a new idea. Thinking it over, they 
began to find there was something in it. 

“I think it is,” both replied, smiling a little. 

60 


THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER. 


61 


“ If you knew all about everything, and could see 
through everything, there wouldn’t be much interest 
left. Nothing to find out or to fancy. Oh, what a 
dull world!” 

“Are we to find out or to fancy you?” asked Maia. 
She spoke seriously, but there was a little look of 
fun in her eyes which was at once reflected in god- 
mother’s. 

“Whichever you like,” she replied; “but, first of 
all, you are to kiss me.” 

Rollo and Maia both kissed the soft white face. 
It was so soft, and there seemed a sort of fresh, sweet 
scent about godmother, as if she had been in a room 
all filled with violets, only it was even nicer. She 
smiled, and from a little basket on her arm, which 
they had not noticed, she drew out several tiny 
bunches of spring flowers, tied with green and white 
ribbon — so pretty ; oh, so very pretty ! 

“ So you scented my flowers,” she said. “No won- 
der; you have never scented any quite like them 
before. They come from the other country. Here, 
dears, catch,” and she tossed them up in the air, all 
four children jumping and darting about to see who 
would get most. But at the end, when they counted 
their treasurers, it was quite right, each had got three. 

“Oh, how sweet!” cried Maia. “May we take 
them home with us, godmother?” It seemed to 
come quite naturally to call her that, and Maia did 
it without thinking. 


62 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“Certainly,” godmother replied; “but remember 
this, don’t throw them away when they seem with- 
ered. They will not be really withered ; that is to 
say, long afterwards, by putting them in the sun- 
shine, they will — some of them, anyway — come 
out quite fresh again. And even when dried up 
they will have a delicious scent ; indeed, the scent 
has an added charm about it the older they are — 
so many think, and I agree with them.” 

Rollo and Maia looked at their flowers with a sort 
of awe. 

“Then they ar q fairy flowers?” they half whis- 
pered. “ You said they came from the other country. 
Do you come from there too, godmother ? Are you 
a fairy ? ” 

Godmother smiled. 

“ Fancy me one if you like,” she said. “ Fancy me 
whatever you like best, you will not be far wrong ; 
but fairyland is only one little part of that other 
country. You will find that out as you get older.” 

“ Shall we go there some day, then ? ” exclaimed 
Maia. “ Will you take us, dear godmother? Have 
Waldo and Silva ever been ? ” 

“ Oh, what a lot of questions all at once ! ” cried 
godmother. “I can’t answer so many. You must 
be content to find out some things for yourself, my 
little girl. The way to the other country for one. 
Shall you go there some day? Yes, indeed, many 
and many a time, I hope.” 


THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER. 


68 


Maia clapped her hands with delight. 

“ Oh, how nice ! ” she said. “ And when ? May 
we go to-day? Oh, Silva, do ask godmother to let 
us go to-day,” she exclaimed, catching hold of Silva 
in her eagerness. But Silva only smiled, and looked 
at godmother ; and somehow, when they smiled, the 
two faces — the young one with its bright rich 
colour, and the old one, white, so white, except for 
the wonderful, beautiful eyes, that it might have 
been made of snow — looked strangely alike. 

“ Silva has learned to be patient,” said godmother, 
“and so she gets to know more and more of the 
other country. You must follow her example, little 
Maia. Don’t be discouraged. How do you know 
that you are not already on the way there ? What 
do you think about it, my boy ? ” she went on, turn- 
ing to Rollo, who was standing a little behind them 
listening, but saying nothing. 

Rollo looked up and smiled. 

“ I’d like to find the way myself,” he replied. 

“That’s right,” said godmother. And Maia felt 
more and more puzzled, as it seemed to her that 
Rollo understood the meaning of godmother’s words 
better than she did. 

“ Rollo,” she exclaimed, half reproachfully. 

Rollo turned to her with some surprise. 

“You understand and I don’t,” she said, with a 
little pout on her pretty lips. 

“No,” said Rollo, “I don’t. But I like to think 
of understanding some day.” 


64 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“ That is right,” said godmother again. “ But this 
is dull talk for you, little people. What is it to be 
to-day, Silva? What is old godmother to do for 
you?” 

Silva glanced out of the window. 

“ The day will soon be closing into evening,” she 
said, “ and Rollo and Maia cannot stay after sunset. 
We have not very long, godmother — no time to go 
anywhere.” 

“ Ah, I don’t know about that,” godmother replied. 
“ But still — the first visit. What would you like, 
then, my child ? ” 

“ Let us gather round the fire, for it is a little 
chilly,” said Silva, “ and you, dear godmother, will 
tell us a story.” 

Maia’s eyes and Rollo’s, too, brightened at this. 
Godmother had no need to ask if they would like it. 
She drew the large chair nearer the fireplace, and 
the four children clustered round her in silence wait- 
ing for her to begin. 

“ It is too warm with my cloak on,” she said, and 
she raised her hand to unfasten it at the neck and 
loosen it a little. It did not entirely fall off ; the 
dark green hood still made a shade round her silvery 
hair and delicate face, but the cloak dropped away 
enough for Maia’s sharp eyes to see that the dress 
underneath was of lovely crimson stuff, neither 
velvet nor satin, but richer and softer than either. 
It glimmered in the light of the fire with a sort of 


THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER. 


65 


changing brilliance that was very tempting, and it 
almost seemed to Maia that she caught the sparkle 
of diamonds and other precious stones. 

“ May I stroke your pretty dress, godmother ? ” 
she said softly. Godmother started; she did not 
seem to have noticed how much of the crimson was 
seen, and for a moment Maia felt a little afraid. 
But then godmother smiled again, and the child felt 
quite happy, and slipped her hand inside the folds of 
the cloak till it reached the soft stuff beneath. 

“ Stroke it the right way,” said godmother. 

“ Oh, how soft ! ” said Maia in delight. “ What 
is it made of ? It isn’t velvet, or even plush. God- 
mother,” she went on, puckering her forehead again 
in perplexity, “ it almost feels like feathers . Are 
you perhaps a bird as well as a fairy ? ” 

At this godmother laughed. You never heard 
anything so pretty as her laugh. It was something 
like — no, I could never tell you what it was like — 
a very little like lots of tiny silver bells ringing, and 
soft breezes blowing, and larks trilling, all together 
and very gently, and yet very clearly. The children 
could not help all laughing, too, to hear it. 

“ Call me whatever you like,” said godmother. 
“ A bird, or a fairy, or a will-o’-the-wisp, or even a 
witch. Many people have called me a witch, and I 
don’t mind. Only, dears,” and here her pretty, sweet 
voice grew grave, and even a little sad, “ never think 
of me except as loving you and wanting to make you 


66 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


happy and good. And never believe I have said or 
done anything to turn you from doing right and 
helping others to do it. That is the only thing that 
could grieve him. And the world is full of people 
who don’t see things the right way, and blame others 
when it is their own fault all the while. So some- 
times you will find it all rather difficult. But don’t 
forget.” 

44 No,” said Maia, 44 we won’t forget, even though 
we don’t quite understand. We will some day, 
won’t we ? ” 

44 Yes, dears, that you will,” said godmother. 

44 And just now,” said Silva, 44 it doesn’t matter. 
We needn’t think about the difficult world, dear god- 
mother, while we’re here — ever so far away from it.” 

44 No, we need not,” said godmother, with what 
sounded almost like a sigh, if one could have believed 
that godmother could sigh ! If it were one, it was 
gone in an instant, and with her very prettiest and 
happiest smile, godmother turned to the children. 

44 And now, dears,” she said, 44 now for the story.” 

The four figures drew still nearer, the four pair of 
eyes were fixed on the sweet white face, into which, 
as she spoke, a little soft pink colour began to come. 
Whether it was from the reflection of the fire or not, 
Maia could not decide, and godmother’s clear voice 
went on. 

44 Once — ” 

44 Once upon a time ; do say 4 once upon a time,’ ” 
interrupted Silva. 


THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER. 


67 


“ Well, well, once upon a time,” repeated god- 
mother, “ though, by the by, how do you know I was 
not going to say it? Well, then, once upon a time, 
a long ago once upon a time, there lived a king’s 
daughter.” 

“A princess,” interrupted another voice, Maia’s 
this time. 44 Why don’t you say a princess, dear 
godmother? ” 

“ Never mind,” replied godmother. “ I like better 
to call her a king’s daughter.” 

“ And don’t interrupt any more, please,” said 
Waldo and Rollo together, quite forgetting that they 
were actually interrupting themselves. 

“ And,” continued godmother, without noticing 
this last interruption, “ she was very beautiful and 
very sweet and good, even though she had everything 
in the world that even a king’s daughter could want. 
Do you look surprised at my saying 4 even though,’ 
children ? You need not ; there is nothing more 
difficult than to remain unselfish, which is just 
another word, for 4 sweet and good,’ if one never 
knows what it is to have a wish ungratified. But 
so it was with Aureole, for that was the name of the 
fair maiden. Though she had all her life been sur- 
rounded with luxury and indulgence, though she had 
never known even a crumpled rose-leaf in her path, 
her heart still remained tender, and she felt for the 
sufferings of others whenever she knew of them, as 
if they were her own. 


68 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


44 4 Who knows ? ’ she would say softly to herself, 
4 who knows but what some day sorrow may come to 
me, and then how glad I should be to find kindness 
and sympathy ! ’ 

44 And when she thought thus there used to come 
a look in her eyes which made her old nurse, who 
loved her dearly, tremble and cross herself. 

44 4 1 have never seen that look,’ she would whisper, 
though not so that Aureole could hear it — 4 1 have 
never seen that look save in the eyes of those 1 who 
were born to sorrow.’ 

44 But time went on, and no sorrows of her own had 
as yet come to Aureole. She grew to be tall and 
slender, with golden fair curls about her face, which 
gave her a childlike, innocent look, as if she were 
younger than her real age. And with her years her 
tenderness and sympathy for suffering seemed to 
grow deeper and stronger. It was the sure way to 
her heart. In a glade not far from the castle she 
had a favourite bower, where early every morning she 
used to go to feed and tend her pets, of which the 
best-loved was a delicate little fawn that she had 
found one day in the forest, deserted by its com- 
panions, as it had hurt its foot and could no longer 
keep pace with them. With difficulty Aureole and 
her nurse carried it home between them, and tended 
it till it grew well again and could once more run and 
spring as lightly as ever. And then one morning 
Aureole, with tears in her eyes, led it back to the 
forest where she had found it. 








It was the Prettiest Sight in the World to see Aureole in her 
Bower every Morning. — p. 69. 




THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER. 


69 


44 4 Here, my fawn,’ she said, 4 you are free as air. 
I would not keep you a captive. Hasten to your 
friends, my fawn, but do not forget Aureole, and if 
you are in trouble come to her to help you.’ 

44 But the fawn would not move. He rubbed him- 
self softly against her, and looked up in her face with 
eyes that almost spoke. She could not but under- 
stand what he meant to say. 

44 4 1 cannot leave you. Let me stay always beside 
you,’ was what he tried to express. So Aureole let 
him follow her home again, and from that day he had 
always lived in her bower, and was never so happy 
as when gambolling about her. She had other pets 
too — numbers of birds of various kinds, none of which 
she kept in cages, for all of them she had in some 
way or other saved and protected, and, like the fawn, 
they refused to leave her. The sweetest, perhaps, 
were a pair of wood-pigeons which she had one day 
released from a fowler’s snare, where they had become 
entangled. It was the prettiest sight in the world 
to see Aureole in her bower every morning, the fawn 
rubbing his soft head against her white dress, and 
the wood-pigeons cooing to her, one perched on each 
shoulder, while round her head fluttered a crowd of 
birds of different kinds — all owing their life and hap- 
piness to her tender care. There was a thrush, which 
she had found half-fledged and gasping for breath, 
fallen from the nest ; a maimed swallow, who had 
been left behind by his companions in the winter 


70 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


flight. And running about, though still lame of one 
leg, a tame rabbit which she had rescued from a dog, 
and ever so many other innocent creatures, all with 
histories of the same kind, and each vying with the 
other to express gratitude to their dear mistress as 
she stood there with the sunshine peeping through 
the boughs and lighting up her sweet face and bright 
hair. 

“But summer and sunshine do not always last, 
and in time sorrow came to Aureole as to others. 

“ Her mother had died when she was a little baby, 
and her father was already growing old. But he felt 
no anxiety about the future of his only child, for it 
had long been decided that she was to marry the 
next heir to his crown, the Prince Halbert, as by 
the laws of that country no woman could reign. 
Aureole had not seen Halbert for many years, when, 
as children, they had played together ; but she remem- 
bered him with affection as a bright merry boy, and 
she looked forward without fear to being his wife. 

“ 4 Why should I not love him? ’ she said to herself. 
4 1 have never yet known any one who was not kind 
and gentle, and Halbert will be still more so to 
me than any one else, for he will be my king and 
master.’ 

“ And when the day came for the Prince to return 
to see her again, she waited for him quietly and 
without misgiving. And at first all seemed as she 
had pictured it. Halbert was manly and handsome, 


THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER. 


71 


he had an open expression and winning manners, he 
was devoted to his gentle cousin. So the old King 
was delighted, and Aureole said to herself, 4 What 
have I done to deserve such happiness ? How can I 
ever sufficiently show my gratitude ? ’ 

44 She was standing in her bower when she thought 
thus, surrounded as usual by her pets. Suddenly 
among the trees at some little distance she heard a 
sound of footsteps, and at the same time a harsh voice, 
which she scarcely recognised, speaking roughly and 
sharply. 

44 4 Out of my way, you cur,’ it said, and then came 
the sound of a blow, followed by a piteous whine. 

“Aureole darted forward, and in another instant 
came upon Halbert, his face dark and frowning, while 
a poor little dog lay bleeding at his feet. 

44 4 Halbert ! ’ exclaimed Aurdole. Her cousin 
started ; he had not heard her come. 4 Did you do 
this ? Did you strike the little dog ? ’ 

44 Halbert turned towards her ; he had reddened 
with shame, but he tried to laugh it off. 

44 4 It is nothing,’ he said ; 4 the creature will be all 
right again directly. Horrid little cur ! it rushed 
out at me from that cottage there and yelped and 
barked just when I was eagerly hastening to your 
bower, Princess.’ 

44 But Aureole hardly heard him, or his attempts at 
excusing himself. She was on her knees before the 
poor dog. 


72 


CHKISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“‘Why, Fido,’ she said, ‘dear little Fido, do yon 
not know me?’ Fido feebly tried to wag his tail. 

“ ‘ Is it your dog ? ’ stammered Halbert. ‘ I had no 
— not the slightest idea — ’ 

“ But Aureole flashed back an answer which star- 
tled him. ‘ My dog,’ she said. ‘No. But what has 
that to do with it ? Oh, you cruel man ! ’ 

“ Then she turned from him, the little dog all pant- 
ing and bleeding in her arms. Halbert was startled 
by the look on her face. 

“ ‘ Forgive me, Aureole,’ he cried. ‘ I did not 
mean to hurt the creature. I am hasty and quick- 
tempered, but you should not punish so severely an 
instant’s thoughtlessness.’ 

“ ‘ It was not thoughtlessness. It was cowardly 
cruelty,’ replied Aurdole slowly, turning her pale 
face towards him. ‘A man must have a cruel nature 
who, even under irritation, could do what you have 
done. Farewell,’ and she was moving away when he 
stopped her. 

“‘What do you mean by farewell? You are not 
in earnest?’ he exclaimed. But Aureole looked at 
him with indignation. 

“‘Not in earnest?’ she repeated. ‘Never was I 
more so in my life! Farewell, Halbert.’ 

“ ‘ And you will not see me again?’ he exclaimed. 

“‘I will never see you again,’ Aureole replied, 
‘ till you have learnt to feel for the sufferings of your 
fellow-creatures, instead of adding to them. And 


THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER. 


78 


who can say if that day will ever come ? Farewell 
again, Halbert.’ 

“The Prince stood thunderstruck, watching her 
slight figure as it disappeared among the trees. He 
felt like a man in a dream. Then, as he gradually 
became conscious that it was all true, his hot temper 
broke out in anger at Aureole, in mockery at her 
absurdity and exaggeration, and he tried to believe 
what he said, that no man could be happy with so 
fanciful and unreasonable a wife, and that he had 
nothing to regret. In his heart he was angry with 
himself, though to this he would not own, and con- 
scious also that Aureole’s instinct had judged him 
truly. He was selfish and utterly thoughtless for 
others, and far on the way therefore to becoming 
actually cruel. He had, like Aureole, been sur- 
rounded by luxury and indulgence all his life, but 
had not, like her, acquired the habit of feeling for 
others and looking upon his own blessings as to be 
shared with those who were without them. 

“Aureole kept to her word. She would not see 
Halbert again, though the King, her father, did his 
utmost to shake her resolution. She remained firm. 
It was better so for both of them, she repeated. It 
would kill her to be the wife of such a man, and do 
him no good. So in bitter and angry resentment, 
rather than sorrow, Prince Halbert went away, and 
Aurdole’s life returned to what it had been before 
his coming. 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER — ( Continued ). 

“ I have been enchanted, and thou only canst set me free.” 

Grimm’s Eaven. 

“It seemed so at least, but in reality it was very 
different. Aureole had received a shock which she 
felt deeply, and which she could not forget. It 
grieved her, too, to see her father’s distress and dis- 
appointment, and sometimes she asked herself if per- 
haps she had done wrong in deciding so hastily. But 
the sight of the little dog Fido, which had recovered, 
though with the loss of one eye, always removed these 
misgivings. ‘ A man who could be so cruel to a 
harmless little creature, would have quickly broken 
my heart,' she said to herself and sometimes to her 
father. And as time went on, and news came that 
Prince Halbert was becoming more and more feared 
and disliked in his own home from the increasing 
violence of his temper, the old King learnt to be 
thankful that his dear Aureole was not to be at the 
mercy of such a man. 

44 4 But what will become of you, my darling, when 
I am gone ? ’ he would say. 

44 4 Fear not for me,’ Aureole assured him. 4 1 have 
no fear for myself, father, dear. Why, I could live 
74 


THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER. 75 

safely in the woods with my dear animals. If I had 
a little hut, and Fido to guard me, and Lello my 
fawn, and the little rabbit, and all my pretty birds, 
I should be quite happy ! ’ 

“ For the forester to whom Fido belonged had 
begged Aureole to keep him, as even before its hurt 
the dog had learnt to love her and spring out to 
greet her, and wag his tail with pleasure when she 
passed his master’s cottage, which lay on the way to 
her glade. But though Aureole was not afraid for 
herself, she was often very miserable when she 
thought of her country-people, above all the poor 
and defenceless ones, in the power of such a king as 
Halbert gave signs of being, after the long and gentle 
rule of her father. Yet there was nothing to be done, 
so she kept silence, fearing to cloud with more sorrow 
and anxiety the last days of the old King. 

44 They were indeed his last days, for within a year 
of Halbert’s unfortunate visit her father died, and the 
fair Aureole was left desolate. 

44 Her grief was great, even though the King had 
been very old, and she had long known he could not 
be spared to her for many more years. But she had 
not much time to indulge in it, for already, before 
her father was laid in his grave, her sorrow was dis- 
turbed by the strange and unexpected events which 
came to pass. 

44 These began by a curious dream which came to 
Aureole the very night of her father’s death. 


76 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“ She dreamt that she was standing in her bower 
with her pets about her as usual. She felt bright 
and happy, and had altogether forgotten about her 
father’s death. Suddenly a movement of terror made 
itself felt among her animals — the birds fluttered 
closer to her, the little rabbit crept beneath her skirt, 
the fawn and Fido looked up at her with startled 
eyes, and almost before she had time to look round 
their terror was explained. A frightful sound was 
heard approaching them, the terrible growl of a bear, 
and in another moment the monster was within a 
few yards. Even then, in her dream, Aureole’s first 
thought was for her pets. She threw her arms round 
all that she could embrace, and stood there calmly, 
watching the creature with a faint hope that if she 
showed no terror he might pass them by. But he 
came nearer and nearer, till she almost felt his hot 
breath on her face, when suddenly, to her amaze- 
ment, the monster was no longer there, but in his 
place the Prince Halbert, standing beside her and 
looking at her with an expression of the profoundest 
misery. 

“ 4 1 have brought it on myself,’ he said. 4 1 deserve 
it ; but pity me, oh, Aureole ! Sweet Aureole, pity 
and forgive me ! ’ Then a cry of irrepressible grief 
burst from his lips, and at this moment Aureole 
awoke, to find her eyes wet with tears, her heart 
throbbing fast with fear and distress. 

44 4 What can have made me dream of Halbert?’ 


THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER. 


77 


she said to herself. ‘ It must have been seeing the 
messengers start yesterday,’ and then all came back 
to her memory, which at the first moment of waking 
had been confused, and she remembered her father’s 
death and her own loneliness, and the scarcely-dried 
tears rushed afresh to her eyes. 

“ ‘ Has any news come from Prince Halbert ? ’ she 
inquired of her attendants when they came at her 
summons. And when they told her ‘ none,’ she felt 
a strange sensation of uneasiness. For the messen- 
gers had been despatched at once on the death of the 
old King, which had been sudden at the last, to sum- 
mon his successor, and there had been time already 
for their return. 

“ And as the day went on and nothing was heard 
of them, every one began to think there must be 
something wrong, till late at night these fears were 
confirmed by the return of the messengers with 
anxious faces. 

Has the Prince arrived?’ was their first ques- 
tion, and when they were told that nothing had been 
seen of him, they explained the reason of their 
inquiry. 

“ Halbert, already informed of the illness of the 
old King, had quickly prepared to set out with his 
own attendants and those who had come to summon 
him. They had ridden through the night, and had 
nothing untoward occurred, they would have ended 
their journey by daybreak. But the Prince had lost 


78 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


his temper with his horse, a nervous and restless 
animal, unfit for so irritable a person to manage. 

“‘We became uneasy,’ said the messengers, ‘on 
seeing the Prince lashing and spurring furiously the 
poor animal, who, his sides streaming with blood, no 
longer understood what was required of him, and at 
last, driven mad with pain and terror, dashed off at a 
frantic pace which it was hopeless to overtake. We 
followed him as best we could, guided for some dis- 
tance by the branches broken as they passed and the 
ploughed-up ground, which, thanks to a brilliant 
moonlight, we were able to distinguish. But at 
last, where the trees began to grow more thickly — ’ 
and here the speaker, who was giving this report to 
Aureole herself, hesitated — ‘ at last these traces en- 
tirely disappeared. We sought on in every direction ; 
when the moon went in we waited for the daylight, 
and resumed our search. But all to no purpose, and 
at last we resolved to ride on hither, hoping that the 
Prince might possibly have found his way before us.’ 

“‘But this is terrible !’ cried Aureole, forgetting 
all her indignation against Halbert in the thought of 
his lying perhaps crushed and helpless in some bypath 
of the forest which his followers had missed. ‘We 
must at once send out fresh horsemen in every direc- 
tion to scour the country.’ 

“ The captain who had had command of the little 
troop bowed, but said nothing, and seemed without 
much hope that any fresh efforts would succeed. 
Aureole was struck with his manner. 


THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER. 


79 


“ 4 You are concealing something from me,’ she 
said. ‘Why do you appear so hopeless? Even at 
the worst, even supposing the Prince is killed, he 
must be found.’ 

‘“We searched too thoroughly,’ replied the offi- 
cer. ‘ Wherever it was possible to get, we left not a 
square yard unvisited.’ 

“ ‘ Wherever it was possible ,’ repeated Aureole ; 
‘what do you mean? You do not think — ’ and she 
too hesitated, and her pale face grew paler. 

“ The captain glanced at her. 

“ ‘ I see that you have divined our fears, Princess,’ 
he said in a low voice. ‘Yes, we feel almost without 
a doubt that the unfortunate Prince has been carried 
into the enchanted forest, from whence, as you well 
know, none have ever been known to return. It is 
well that his parents have not lived to see this day, 
for, though he brought it on himself, it is impossible 
not to feel pity for such a fate.’ 

“ Aureole seemed scarcely able to reply. But she 
gave orders, notwithstanding all she had heard, to 
send out fresh horsemen to search again in every 
direction. 

“ ‘ My poor father,’ she said to herself ; ‘ I am glad 
he was spared this new sorrow about Halbert.’ And 
as the remembrance of her strange dream returned 
to her, ‘ Poor Halbert,’ she added, ‘ what may he not 
be suffering?’ and she shuddered at the thought. 

“ For the enchanted forest was the terror of all that 


80 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


country. In reality nothing, or almost nothing, was 
known of it, and therefore the awe and horror about 
it were the greater. It lay in a lonely stretch of 
ground between two ranges of hills, and no one ever 
passed through it, for there was no pathway or 
entrance of any kind to be seen. But for longer 
than any one now living could remember, it had 
been spoken of as a place to be dreaded and avoided, 
and travellers in passing by used to tell how they 
had heard shrieks and screams and groans from 
among its dark shades. It was said that a magician 
lived in a castle in the very centre of the forest, and 
that he used all sorts of tricks to get people into his 
power, whence they could never again escape. For 
though several were known to have been tempted to 
enter the forest, none of them were ever heard of or 
seen again. And it was the common saying of the 
neighbourhood, that it would be far worse to lose a 
child by straying into the forest than by dying. No 
one had ever seen the magician, no one even was 
sure that he existed, but when any misfortune came 
over the neighbourhood,. such as a bad harvest or 
unusual sickness, people were sure to say that the 
wizard of the forest was at the bottom of it. And 
Aureole, like every one else, had a great and myste- 
rious terror of the place and its master. 

“ 4 Poor Halbert ! ’ she repeated to herself many 
times that day. ‘Would I could do anything for 
him!’ 


THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER. 


81 


“ The bands of horsemen she had sent out returned 
one after the other with the same tidings, — nothing 
had been seen or heard of the Prince. But late in 
the day a woodman brought to the castle a fragment 
of cloth which was recognised as having been torn 
from the mantle of the Prince, and which he had 
found caught on the branch of a tree. When asked 
where, he hesitated, which of itself was answer 
enough. 

44 4 Close to the borders of the enchanted forest,’ he 
said at last, lowering his voice. But that was all he 
had to tell. And from this moment all ^ lost hope. 
There was nothing more to be done. 

“ 4 The Prince is as lost to us as is our good old 
King,’ were the words of every one on the day of the 
funeral of Aureole’s father. ‘Far better for him 
were he too sleeping peacefully among his fathers 
than to be where he is.’ 

44 It seemed as if it would have certainly been bet- 
ter for his people had it been so. It was impossible 
to receive the successor of Halbert as king till a cer- 
tain time had elapsed, which would be considered as 
equal to proof of his death. And the next heir to 
the crown being but an infant living in a distant 
country, the delay gave opportunity for several rival 
claimants to begin to make difficulties, and not many 
months after the death of the old King the once 
happy and peaceful country was threatened with war 
and invasion on various sides. Then the heads of 


82 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


the nation consulted together, and decided on a bold 
step. They came to Aureole offering her the crown, 
declaring that thej^ preferred to overthrow the laws 
of the country, though they had existed for many 
centuries, and to make her, at the point of the sword 
if necessary, their queen, rather than accept as sov- 
ereign any of those who had no right to it, or an 
infant who would but be a name and no reality. 

44 Aureole was startled and bewildered, but firm in 
her refusal. 

“ 4 A king’s daughter am I, but no queen. I feel 
no fitness for the task of ruling,’ she replied, 4 and I 
could never rest satisfied that I was where I had a 
right to be.’ 

44 But when the deputies entreated her to consider 
the matter, and when she thought of the misery in 
store for the people unless something were quickly 
done, she agreed to think it over till the next day. 

44 The next day came, Aureole was ready, awaiting 
the deputies. Their hopes rose high as they saw her, 
for there was an expression on her face that had not 
been there the day before. She stood before them 
in her long mourning robe, but she had encircled her 
waist with a golden belt, and golden ornaments 
shone on her neck and arms. 

44 4 It is a good sign,’ the envoys whispered, as they 
remarked also the bright and hopeful light in her 
eyes, and they stood breathless, waiting for her reply. 
It was not what they had expected. 


THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER. 


83 


“ 4 1 cannot as yet consent to what you wish,’ said 
Aureole ; 4 but be patient. I set off to-day on a 
journey from which I hope to return with good news. 
Till then I entreat you to do your best to keep all 
peaceful and quiet. And I promise you that if I 
fail in what I am undertaking, I will return to be 
your queen.’ 

44 This was all she would say. She was forbidden, 
she declared, to say more. And so resolute and 
decided did she appear, that the envoys, though not 
without murmuring, were obliged to consent to await 
her return, and withdrew with anxious and uneasy 
looks. 

44 And Aureole immediately began to get ready for 
the mysterious journey of which she had spoken. 
Her preparations were strange. She took off, for the 
first time since her father’s death, her black dress, 
and clad herself entirely in white. Then she kissed 
her old nurse and bade her farewell, at the same 
time telling her to keep up her courage and have no 
fear, to which the old dame could not reply without 
tears. 

44 4 1 do not urge you to tell me the whole, Prin- 
cess,’ she said, 4 as it was forbidden you to do so. 
But if I might but go with you.’ Aureole shook her 
head. 

44 4 No, dear nurse,’ she replied. 4 The voice in my 
dream said, 44 Alone, save for thy dumb friends.” 
That is all I can tell you,’ and kissing again the 


84 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


poor nurse, Aureole set off, none knew whither, and 
she took care that none should follow her. Some of 
her attendants saw her going in the direction of her 
bower, and remarked her white dress. But they 
were so used to her going alone to see her pets that 
they thought no more of it. For no one knew the 
summons Aureole had received. The night before, 
after tossing about unable to sleep, so troubled was 
she by the request that had been made to her, she at 
last fell into a slumber, and again there came to her 
a strange dream. She thought she saw her cousin ; 
he seemed pale and worn with distress and suffering. 

“ 4 Aureole,’ he said, ‘you alone can rescue me. 
Have you courage? I ask it not only for myself, 
but for our people.’ 

“And when in her sleep she would have spoken, 
no words came, only she felt herself stretching out 
her arms to Halbert as if to reach and save him. 

“‘Come, then,’ said his voice; ‘but come alone, 
save for thy dumb friends. Tell no one, but fear 
not.’ But even as he said the words he seemed to 
disappear, and again the dreadful, the panting roar 
she had heard in her former dream reached Aureole’s 
ears, in another moment the terrible shape of the 
monster appeared, and shivering with horror she 
awoke. Yet she determined to respond to Halbert’s 
appeal. She told no one except her old nurse, to 
whom she merety said that she had been summoned 
in a dream to go away, but that no harm would 


THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER. 85 

befall her. She clad herself in white, as a better 
omen of success, and when she reached her bower, 
all her creatures welcomed her joyfully. So, with 
Fido, Lello the fawn, and the little rabbit gambolling 
about her feet, the wood-pigeons on her shoulders, 
and all the strange company of birds fluttering about 
her, Aurdole set off on her journey, she knew not 
whither. 

44 But her pets knew. Whenever she felt at a loss 
Fido would give a little tug to her dress and then 
run on barking in front, or Lello would look up in 
her face with his pleading eyes and then turn his 
head in a certain direction, while the birds would 
sometimes disappear for a few moments and then, 
with a great chirping and fluttering, would be seen 
again a little way overhead, as if to assure her they 
had been to look if she was taking the right way. 
So that when night began to fall, Aureole, very tired, 
but not discouraged, found herself far from home in 
a part of the forest she had never seen before, though 
with trembling she said to herself that for all she 
knew she might already be in the enchanter’s 
country. 

444 But what if it be so?’ she reflected. 4 1 must 
not be faint-hearted before my task is begun.’ 

44 She was wondering how she should spend the 
night when a sharp bark from Fido made her look 
round. She followed to where it came from, and 
found the little dog at the door of a small hut cleverly 


86 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


concealed among the trees. Followed by her pets 
Aureole entered it, when immediately, as if pulled 
by an invisible hand, the door shut to. But she 
forgot to be frightened in her surprise at what she 
saw. The hut was beautifully made of the branches 
of trees woven together, and completely lined with 
moss. A small fire burned cheerfully in one corner, 
for the nights were still chilly; a little table was 
spread with a snow-white cloth, on which were laid 
out fruits and cakes and a jug of fresh milk; and a 
couch of the softest moss covered with a rug made 
of fur was evidently arranged for Aureole’s bed. 
And at the other side of the hut sweet hay was 
strewn for the animals, and a sort of trellis work of 
branches was ready in one corner for the birds to 
roost on. 

“ 4 How pleasant it is ! ’ said Aureole, as she knelt 
down to warm herself before the fire. 4 If this is the 
enchanted forest I don’t think it is at all a dreadful 
place, and the wizard must be very kind and hospi- 
table.’ 

44 And when she had had some supper and had seen 
that her pets had all they wanted, she lay down on 
the mossy couch feeling refreshed and hopeful, and 
soon fell fast asleep. She had slept for some hours 
when she suddenly awoke, though what had awakened 
her she could not tell. But glancing round the hut 
by the flickering light of the fire, which was not yet 
quite out, she saw that all her pets were awake, and 


THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER. 


87 


when she gently called ‘ Fido, Fido,’ the little dog, 
followed by the fawn and the rabbit, crept across the 
hut to her, and when she touched them she felt that 
they were all shaking and trembling, while the birds 
seemed to be trying to hide themselves all huddled 
together in a corner. And almost before Aureole 
had time to ask herself what it could be, their fear 
was explained, for through the darkness outside came 
the sound she had twice heard in her dreams — the 
terrible panting roar of the monster ! It came nearer 
and nearer. Aurdole felt there was nothing to do. 
She threw her arms round the poor little trembling 
creatures determined to protect them to the last. 
Suddenly there came a great bang at the door, as if 
some heavy creature had thrown itself against it, and 
Aureole trembled still more, expecting the door to 
burst open. But the mysterious hand that had shut 
it had shut it well. It did not move. Only a low 
despairing growl was heard, and then all was silent 
till a few minutes after, when another growl came 
from some distance off, and then Aureole felt sure 
the danger was past : the beast had gone away, for, 
though she had not seen him, she was certain he 
was none other than the monster of her dreams. 
The poor animals cower^l down again in their corner, 
and Aureole, surprised at the quickness with which 
her terror had passed, threw herself on her couch 
and fell into a sweet sleep. When she woke, the sun 
was already some way up in the sky ; the door was 


88 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


half open, and a soft sweet breeze fluttered into the 
hut. All was in order ; the little fire freshly lighted, 
the remains of last night’s supper removed, and a 
tempting little breakfast arranged. Aurdole could 
scarcely believe her eyes. ‘ Some one must have 
come in while I was asleep,’ she said, and Fido 
seemed to understand what she meant. He jumped 
up, wagging his tail, and was delighted when Aureole 
sat down at the little table to eat what was provided. 
All her pets seemed as happy as possible, and had 
quite forgotten their fright. So, after breakfast, 
Aureole called them all about her and set off again 
on her rambles. Whither she was to go she knew 
not; she had obeyed the summons as well as she 
could, and now waited to see what more to do. The 
animals seemed to think they had got to the end of 
their journey, and gambolled and fluttered about in 
the best of spirits. And even Aureole herself felt 
it impossible to be sad or anxious. Never had she 
seen anything so beautiful as the forest, with its 
countless paths among the trees, each more tempting 
than the other, the sunshine peeping in through the 
branches, the lovely flowers of colours and forms she 
had never seen before, the beautiful birds warbling 
among the trees, the little squirrels and rabbits play- 
ing about, and the graceful deer one now and then 
caught sight of. 

“ 4 Why,’ exclaimed Aureole, ‘ this the terrible 
enchanted forest ! It is a perfect fairyland.’ 


THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER. 89 

444 You say true,’ said a voice beside her, which 
made her start. 4 To such as you it is a fairyland of 
delight. But to me ! ’ and before Aureole could re- 
cover herself from her surprise, there before her stood 
the Prince Halbert! But how changed! Scarcely 
had she recognised him when every feeling was lost 
in that of pity. 

44 4 Oh, poor Halbert,’ she cried, 4 so I have found 
you! Where have you been? What makes you 
look so miserable and ill ? ’ 

44 For Halbert seemed wasted to a shadow. His 
clothes, torn and tattered, hung loosely about him. 
His face was pale and thin, and his eyes sad and 
hopeless, though, as he saw the pitying look in her 
face, a gleam of brightness came into his. 

44 4 Oh, Aureole, how good of you to come ! It is out 
of pity for me , who so little deserve it. But will you 
have strength to do all that is required to free me 
from this terrible bondage ? ’ 

44 4 Explain yourself, Halbert,’ Aurdole replied. 
4 What is it you mean ? What bondage ? Remem- 
ber I know nothing ; not even if this is truly the 
enchanted forest.’ 

44 Halbert glanced at the sun, now risen high in 
the heavens. 4 1 have but a quarter of an hour,’ he 
said. 4 It is only one hour before noon that I am 
free.’ 

44 And then he went on to relate as quickly as he 
could what had come over him. Fallen into the 


90 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


power of the invisible spirits of the enchanted land, 
whose wrath he had for long incurred by his cruelty 
to those beneath him, among whom were poor little 
Fido, and the unhappy horse who had dropped dead 
beneath him as soon as they entered the forest, his 
punishment had been pronounced to him by a voice 
in his dreams. It was a terrible one. For twenty- 
three hours of the twenty-four which make the day 
and night, he was condemned to roam the woods in 
the guise of a dreadful monster, bringing terror 
wherever he came. 4 1 have to be in appearance what 
I was formerly in heart,’ he said bitterly. 4 You can- 
not imagine how fearful it is to see the tender inno- 
cent little animals fleeing from me in terror, though 
I would now die rather than injure one of them. 
And even you, Aureole, if you saw me you too would 
rush from me in horror.’ 

44 4 1 have seen you,’ she replied. 4 1 have twice 
seen you in my dreams, and now that I know all I 
shall not fear you.’ 

44 4 Do you indeed think so? ’ he exclaimed eagerly. 
4 Your pity and courage are my only hope. For I 
am doomed to continue this awful life — for hun- 
dreds of years perhaps — till twelve dumb animals 
mount on my back and let me carry them out of this 
forest. In my despair, when I heard this sentence, I 
thought of you and your favourites, whom I used to 
mock at and ill-treat more than you knew. They 
love and trust you so much that it is possible you 


THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER. 91 

may make them do this. But I fear for your own 
courage.’ 

44 4 No,’ said Aureole, 4 that will not fail. And 
Fido is of a most forgiving nature. See here,’ she 
went on, calling to the little dog, 4 here is poor Hal- 
bert, who wants you to love him. Stroke him, 
Halbert,’ and as the Prince gently did so, Fido 
looked up in his face with wistful eyes, and began 
timidly to wag his tail, while Lello and the rabbit 
drew near, and the birds fluttered, chirping above 
their heads. It was a pretty picture. 

44 4 See,’ said Aureole, raising her bright face from 
caressing the good little creatures, 4 see, Halbert, how 
loving and gentle they are ! It will not be difficult. 
In many ways they are wiser than we. But I can 
never again believe that the spirits of the forest are 
evil or mischievous. Rather do I now think them 
good and benevolent. How happy seem all the 
creatures under their care ! ’ 

44 4 1 know no more than I have told you,’ said 
Halbert ; 4 but I too believe they must be good, 
cruelly as they have punished me, for I deserved 
it. And doubtless all those who are said to have 
disappeared in the forest have been kept here for 
good purposes. And such as you, Aureole, have 
nothing to fear in any country or from any spirits. 
But I must go,’ he exclaimed. 4 1 would not have 
you yet see me in my other form. You must reflect 
over what I have said, and prepare yourself for it.’ 


92 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


44 4 And when, then, shall I see yon again ? ’ she 
asked. 

“ 4 To-night, at sunset, at the door of your hut, you 
will see — alas, not me ! ’ he whispered, and then in a 
moment he had disappeared. 

44 At sunset that evening Aureole sat at the door of 
the little hut, surrounded by her animals. She had 
petted and caressed them even more than usual, so 
anxious was she to prepare them for their strange 
task. She had even talked of it to Fido and Lello 
with a sort of vague idea that they might understand 
a little, though their only answer was for Fido to wag 
his tail and Lello to rub his soft nose against her. 
But suddenly both pricked up their ears, and then 
clinging more closely to their mistress, began to 
tremble with fear, while the birds drew near in a 
frightened flock. 

44 4 Silly birds,’ said Aureole, trying to speak in her 
usual cheerful tone, 4 what have you to fear? Bears 
don’t eat little birds, and you can fly off in a moment. 
Not that I want you to fly away ; ’ and she whistled 
and called to them, at the same time caressing and 
encouraging the animals, whose quick ears had caught 
sooner than she had done the dreadful baying roar 
which now came nearer and nearer. It was exactly 
the scene of her dreams, and notwithstanding all her 
determination, Aurdole could not help shivering as 
the form of the monster came in sight. 4 Suppose 
it is not Halbert,’ she thought. 4 Suppose it is all a 



Aureole could not help shivering as the Form of the Monster 

came in Sight. — p. 92. 





























« 






« 

































THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER. 


93 


trick of the spirits of this enchanted country for my 
destruction ! ’ And the idea nearly made her faint 
as the dreadful beast drew near. He was so hideous, 
and his roars made him seem still more so. His 
great red tongue hung out of his mouth, his 
eyes seemed glaring with rage. It was all Aureole 
could do to keep her pets round her, and she felt 
that her terror would take away all her power over 
them. 

“ 4 Oh, Halbert,’ she exclaimed, 4 is it you ? I know 
you cannot speak, but can you not make some sign 
to show me that it is you ? I am so frigthened.’ 
She had started up as if on the point of running 
away. The monster, who was close beside her, 
opened still wider his huge mouth, and gave a roar 
of despair. Then an idea seemed to strike him — he 
bent his clumsy knees, and rubbed his great head 
on the ground at her feet; Aureole’s courage re- 
turned. She patted his head, and he gave a faint 
groan of relief. Then by degrees, with the greatest 
patience, she coaxed the animals to draw near, and at 
last placed Fido and Lello on the beast’s immense 
back. But though they now seemed less frightened 
they would not stay there, but jumped off again, and 
pressed themselves close against her. It was no use ; 
after hours, at least so it seemed to Aureole, spent in 
trying, she had to give it up. 

44 4 1 cannot do it, Halbert,’ she said. A groan was 
his reply. Then another thought struck her. 


94 


CHIilSTMAS-TREE LAND. 


44 4 I will climb on your back myself,’ she exclaimed ; 
4 and then perhaps I can coax the animals to stay there.’ 

“ The poor beast tried to stoop down still lower to 
make it easier for Aurdole to get on. She managed 
it without much difficulty, and immediately Fido 
and Lello and the rabbit saw her mounted, up they 
jumped, for they had no idea of being left behind. 
The wood-pigeons came cooing down from the branch 
where they had taken refuge in their fright, and 
perched on her shoulders. Aureole looked up, 
and called and whistled to the other birds. Down 
they came as if bewitched, and settled round her, 
all the seven of them on the beast’s furry back. 

“ 4 Off, Halbert,’ cried Aureole, afraid to lose an 
instant, and off, nothing loath, the beast set. It was 
hard work to keep on. He plunged along so clum- 
sily, and went so fast in his eagerness, that it was 
like riding on an earthquake. But when now and 
then he stopped, and gave a low pitiful roar, as if 
begging Aureole’s pardon for shaking her so, she 
always found breath to say : 4 On, Halbert, on ; think 
not of me.’ 

44 And so at last, after hours of this terrible journey, 
many times during which Aureole’s heart had been 
in her mouth at the least sign of impatience among 
the animals, they reached the borders of the en- 
chanted country, and as the panting beast emerged 
from the forest with his strange burden, poor Aureole 
slipped fainting off his back. Her task was done. 


THE STORY OF A KING’S DAUGHTER. 


95 


“ When she came back to her senses and opened 
her eyes, her first thought was for the beast, but he 
had disappeared. Fido and Lello, and all the others 
were there, however; the dog licking her hands, 
the fawn nestling beside her, and at a little distance 
stood a figure she seemed to know, though no longer 
miserable and wretched as she had last seen him. 
It was Halbert, strong and handsome and happy 
again, but with a look in his eyes of gentleness 
and humility and gratitude that had never been 
there in the old days. 

“ 4 Halbert,’ said Aureole, sitting up and holding 
out her hand to him, 4 is all then right ? ’ 

, 44 4 All is right,’ he replied ; 4 you can see for your- 

self. But, oh, Aureole, how can I thank you ? 
My whole life would not be long enough to repay 
or — ’ 

44 4 Think not about thanking me,’ interrupted 
Aureole. 4 My best reward will be the delight of 
restoring to my dear country-people a king whose 
first object will now , I feel assured, be their happi- 
ness;’ and her eyes sparkled with delight at the 
thought. 

44 She was right. Nothing could exceed the joy 
of the nation at the return of Aureole, and thanks to 
her assurances of his changed character, they soon 
learned to trust their new king as he deserved. 

44 No one ever knew the true history of his disappear- 
ance, but all admired and respected the noble and 


96 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


unselfish courage of Aureole in braving the dangers 
of the enchanted forest itself. Her pets all lived 
to a good old age, and had every comfort they could 
wish for. It was said that Halbert’s only sorrow was 
that for long he could not persuade Aureole to fulfil 
her father’s wishes by marrying him. But some 
years later a rumor came from the far-off country 
where these events happened, telling of the beautiful 
‘king’s daughter’ having at last consented to become 
a king’s wife as well, now that she knew Halbert to 
be worthy of her fullest affection. 

“ And if this is true, I have no doubt it was for 
their happiness as well as for that of their subjects, 
among whom I include the twelve faithful animals.” 


CHAPTER VII. 


A WINDING STAIR AND A SCAMPER. 

“ But children, to whom all is play, 

And something new each hour must bring, 

Find everything so strange, that they 
Are not surprised at anything.” 

The Fairies’ Nest. 

Godmother’s voice stopped. For a moment or 
two there was silence. 

“ I hope it was true,” said Maia, the first to find 
her tongue. “ Poor Halbert, I think he deserved to 
be happy at the end. I think Aureole was rather — 
rather — cross , don’t you, Silva ? ” 

Silva considered. “ No,” she said. “ I can’t bear 
people that are cruel to little animals. Oh ! ” and she 
clasped her hands, “ if only Rollo and Maia could see 
some of our friends in the wood ! May tRey not, 
godmother ? ” 

“All in good time,” said godmother, rather mys- 
teriously. 

Maia looked at her. “Godmother,” she said, 
“how funny you are! I believe you like puzzling 
people better than anything. There are such a lot 
of things I want to ask you about the story. Who 
was it lived in the forest? Was it a wizard? I 


97 


98 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


think that would be much nicer than invisible spirits, 
even though it is rather frightening. And who was 
it made Aureole’s breakfast and shut the door, and 
all that ? I am sure you know, godmother. I believe 
vou’ve been in the enchanted forest yourself. Have 

J».r- 

Godmother smiled. “ Perhaps,” she said. But 
when Maia went on questioning, she would not say 
any more. “ Keep something to puzzle about,” she 
said. “ Remember that that is half the pleasure.” 

And then she took Maia up on her knee and gave 
her such a sweet kiss that the child could not 
grumble. 

“ You are very funny, godmother,” she repeated. 

Suddenly Rollo started. 

“ Maia,” he exclaimed, “ I am afraid we are forget- 
ting about going home and meeting Nanni and every- 
thing. It must be getting very late. It is so queer,” 
he added with a sigh, glancing round the dear little 
kitchen, “ I seemed to have forgotten that this isn’t 
our home, and yet we have only been here an hour 
or two, and — ” 

“ Yes,” said Maia, “ I feel just the same. Indeed 
Aureole and her pets seem far more real to me now 
than Lady Venelda and the white castle.” 

“ And the old doctor and all the lessons you have 
to do,” said godmother ; and somehow the children 
no longer felt surprised at her knowing all about 
everything. “But you are right, my boy, good 


A WINDING STAIR AND A SCAMPER. 


99 


boy,” she went on, turning to Rollo. “ There is a 
time for all things, and now it is time to go back to 
your other life. Say good-bye to each other, my 
children,” and when they had done so — very reluc- 
tantly, you may be sure — she took Rollo by one 
hand and Maia by the other, Waldo and Silva stand- 
ing at the cottage-door to see them off, and led them 
across the little clearing, away into the now darken- 
ing alleys of the wood. 

“ Are you going with us to where Nanni is ? ” 
asked Maia. 

“ Not to where you left her. I will take you by a 
short cut,” said godmother, who, since they had left 
the cottage, had seemed to grow into just an ordi- 
nary-looking old peasant woman, very bent and 
small, for any one at least who did not peep far 
enough inside her queer hood to see her wonderful 
eyes and gleaming hair, and whom no one would 
have suspected of the marvellous crimson dress 
under the long dark cloak. Maia kept peeping up 
at her with a strange look in her face. 

“ What is it, my child ? ” said godmother. 

“ I don’t quite know,” Maia replied. “ I’m not 
quite sure, godmother, if I’m not a little — a very 
little — frightened of you. You change so. In the 
cottage you seemed a sort of a young fairy god- 
mother — and now — ” she hesitated. 

“ And now do I seem very old ? ” 

“ Rather ,” said Maia. 


100 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“Well, listen now. I’ll tell you the real truth, 
strange as it may seem. I am very old — older than 
you can even fancy, and yet I am and I always shall 
be young.” 

“ In fairyland — in the other country, do you 
mean?” asked Rollo. 

Godmother turned her bright eyes full upon him. 
“Not only there, my boy,” she said. “ Here, too — 
everywhere — I am both old and young.” 

Maia gave a little sigh. 

“You are very nice, godmother,” she said, “but 
you are very puzzling.” But she had no time to say 
more, for just then godmother stopped. 

“ See, children,” she said, pointing down a little 
path among the trees, “ I have brought you a short 
cut, as I said I would. At the end of that alley you 
will find your faithful Nanni. And that will not be 
the end of the short cut. Twenty paces straight on 
in the same direction you will come out of the 
wood. Cross the little bridge across the brook and 
you will only have to climb a tiny hill to find your- 
selves at the back entrance of the castle. All will 
be right — and now good-bye, my dears, till your 
next holiday. Have you your flowers ? ” 

“ Oh, yes,” exclaimed both, holding up the pretty 
bunches as they spoke ; “ but how are we to — ” 

“Don’t trouble about how you are to see me 
again,” she interrupted, smiling. “It will come — 
you will see,” and then before they had time to won- 


A WINDING STAIR AND A SCAMPER. 101 


der any more, she turned from them, waving her hand 
in farewell, and disappeared. 

“ Rollo,” said Maia, rubbing her eyes as if she had 
just awakened, “Rollo, is it all real ? Don’t you feel 
as if you had been dreaming?” 

“No,” said Rollo. “I feel as if it ” — and he 
nodded his head backwards in the direction of the 
cottage — “were all real, and the castle and our cousin 
and Nanni and all not real. You said so too.” 

“Yes,” said Maia meditatively, “ while I was there 
with them, I felt like that. But now I don’t. It 
seems not real, and I don’t want to begin to forget 
them.” 

“Suppose you scent your flowers,” said Rollo; 
“ perhaps that’s why godmother gave them to us.” 

Maia thought it a good idea. 

“Yes,” she said, poking her little nose as far as 
it would go in among the fragrant blossoms, “yes, 
Rollo, it comes back to me when I scent the flowers. 
I think it is because godmother’s red dress was scented 
the same way. Oh, yes ! ” shutting her eyes, “ I can 
feel her soft dress now, and I can hear her voice, 
and I can see Waldo and Silva and the dear little 
kitchen. How glad I am you thought of the flowers, 
Rollo ! ” 

“ But we must run on,” said Rollo, and so they did. 
But they had not run many steps before the substan- 
tial figure of Nanni appeared ; she was looking very 
comfortable and contented. 


102 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“ You have not stayed very long, Master Rollo and 
Miss Maia,” she said, “but I suppose it is getting 
time to be turning home.” 

“ And have you spent a pleasant afternoon, 
Nanni?” asked Rollo quietly. i‘How many stock- 
ings have you knitted ? ” 

“ How many ! ” repeated Nanni ; “ come, Master 
Rollo, you’re joking. You’ve not been gone more 
than an hour at the most, but it is queer — it must 
be the smell of the fir-trees — as soon as ever I sit 
down in this wood, off I go to sleep ! I hadn’t done 
more than two rounds when my head began nodding, 
so I had to put my knitting away for fear of running 
the needles into my eyes. And I had such pleasant 
dreams.” 

“ About the beautiful lady again ? ” asked Maia. 

“I think so, but I can’t be sure,” said Nanni. “It 
was about all sorts of pretty things mixed up together. 
Flowers and birds, and I don’t know what. And the 
flowers smelt, for all the world, just like the roses 
round the windows of my mother’s little cottage at 
home. I could have believed I was there.” 

Rollo and Maia looked at each other. It was all 
godmother’s doing, they felt sure. How clever of 
her to know just what Nanni would like to dream of. 

By this time they were out of the wood. The 
light was brighter than among the trees, but still it 
was easy to see that more than Nanni’s “hour” must 
have passed since they left her. 


A WINDING STAIR AND A SCAMPER. 103 


“ Dear me,” she exclaimed, growing rather fright- 
ened, “ it looks later than I thought ! And we’ve a 
long way to go yet,” she went on, looking round ; 
“ indeed,” and her rosy face grew pale, “ I don’t seem 
to know exactly where we are. We must have come 
another way out of the wood — oh, dear, dear — ” 

“ Don’t get into such a fright, Nanni,” said Rollo ; 
“follow me.” 

He sprang up the hilly path that godmother had 
told them of, Maia and Nanni following. It turned 
and twisted about a little, but when they got to the 
top, there, close before them, gleamed the white walls 
of the castle, and a few steps more brought them to 
a back entrance to the terrace by which they often 
came out and in. 

u Well, to be sure ! ” exclaimed Nanni, “you are a 
clever boy, Master Rollo. Who ever would have 
guessed there was such a short cut, and indeed I 
can’t make it out at all which way we’ve come back. 
But so long as we’re here all in good time, and no 
fear of a scolding, I’m sure I’m only too pleased, 
however we’ve got here.” 

As they were passing along the terrace the old 
doctor met them. 

“ Have you had a pleasant holiday ? ” he asked. 

“ Oh, very” answered both Rollo and Maia, look- 
ing up in his face, where, as they expected, they saw 
the half-mysterious, half-playful expression they had 
learnt to know, and which seemed to tell that their 


104 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


old friend understood much more than he chose to 
say. 

“ Did you find any pretty flowers ? ” he asked, with 
a smile, “ though it is rather early in the year yet — 
especially for scented ones — is it not?” 

“ But we have got some,” said Maia quickly, and 
glancing round to see if Nanni were still by them. 
She had gone on, so Maia drew out her bunch, and 
held them up. “ Aren't they sweet ? ” she said. 

The old man pressed them to his face almost as 
lovingly as Maia herself. “ Ah, how very sweet ! ” 
he murmured. “ How much they bring back ! 
Cherish them, my child. You know how?” 

“ Yes, she told us,” said Maia. “ You know whom 
I mean, don’t you, Mr. Doctor?” 

The old doctor smiled again. Maia drew two or 
three flowers out of her bunch, and Rollo did the 
same. Then they put them together and offered 
them to their old friend. 

“ Thank you, my children,” he said ; “ I shall add 
the thought of you to many others, when I perceive 
their sweet scent.” 

“And even when they’re withered and dried up, 
Mr. Doctor, you know,” said Maia eagerly, “the 
scent, she says, is even sweeter.” 

“I know,” said the doctor, nodding his head. 
“Sweeter, I truly think, but bringing sadness with 
it too ; very often, alas ! ” he added in a lower voice, 
so low that the children could not clearly catch the 
words. 


A WINDING STAIR AND A SCAMPER. 105 


“We must go in, Maia,” said Rollo ; “it must be 
nearly supper-time.” 

“Yes,” said Maia; “but first, Mr. Doctor, I want 
to know when are we to have another holiday? 
Lady Yenelda will do any way you tell her, you 
know.” 

“All in good time,” replied the doctor, at which 
Maia pouted a little. 

“ I don’t like all in good time,” she said. 

“ But you have never known me forget,” said the 
old doctor. 

“No, indeed,” said Rollo eagerly, and then Maia 
looked a little ashamed of herself, and ran off smiling 
and waving her hand to the doctor. 

Lady Yenelda asked them no questions, and made 
no remarks beyond saying she was glad they had had 
so fine a day for their ramble in the woods. She 
seemed quite pleased so long as the children were 
well and sat up straight in their chairs without 
speaking at meal-times, and there were no complaints 
from their teachers. That was the way she had been 
brought up, and she thought it had answered very 
well in her case. But she was really kind, and the 
children no longer felt so lonely or dull, now that 
they had the visits to the wood to look forward to. 
Indeed, they had brought back with them a fund 
of amusement, for now their favourite play was to 
act the story which godmother had told them, and 
as they had no other pets, they managed to make 


106 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


friends with the castle cat, a very dignified person, 
who had to play the parts of Fido and Lello and the 
rabbit all in one ; while the birds were represented 
by bunches of feathers they picked up in the poultry- 
yard, and the great furry rug with which they had 
travelled turned Rollo into the unhappy monster. 
It was very amusing, but after a few days they began 
to wish for other companions. 

“If Silva and Waldo were here,” said Rollo, 
“ what fun we could have ! I wonder what they do 
all day, Maia.” 

“ They work pretty hard, I fancy,” said Maia. 
“ Waldo goes to cut down trees in the forest a good 
way off, I know, and Silva has all the house to take 
care of, and everything to cook and wash, and all that. 
But I should call that play-work, not like lessons.” 

“ And I should think cutting down trees the best 
fun in the world,” said Rollo. “ That kind of work 
can’t be as tiring as lessons.” 

“ Lessons, lessons ! What is all this talk about 
lessons? Are you so terribly overworked, my poor 
children? What should you say to a ramble in the 
woods with me for a change?” said a voice beside 
them, which made the children start. 

It was the doctor. He had come round the corner 
of the wall without their seeing him, for they were 
playing on the terrace for half an hour between their 
French lesson with Mademoiselle and their history 
with the chaplain. 


A WINDING STAIR AND A SCAMPER. 107 

“ A walk with you, Mr. Doctor ! ” exclaimed Maia. 
“ Oh, yes, it would be nice. But it isn’t a holiday, 
and — ” 

“How do you know it isn’t a holiday, my dear 
young lady,” interrupted the doctor. “ How do you 
know that I have not represented to your respected 
cousin that her young charges had been working 
very hard of late, and would be the better for a 
ramble? If you cannot believe me, run in and ask 
Lady Venelda herself; if you are satisfied without 
doing so, why then, let us start at once ! ” 

“ Of course we are satisfied,” exclaimed Rollo and 
Maia together ; “ but we must go in to get our thick 
boots and jackets, and our nicer hats,” added Maia, 
preparing to start off. 

“Not a bit of it,” said the doctor, stopping her. 
“ You are quite right as you are. Come along ; ” and 
without giving the children time for even another 
“ but,” off he strode. 

To their amazement, however, he turned towards 
the house, which he entered by a side door that the 
children had never before noticed, and which he 
opened with a small key. 

“ Doctor,” began Maia, but he only shook his head 
without speaking, and stalked on, Rollo and his sister 
following. He led them some way along a rather 
narrow passage, where they had never been before, 
then, opening a door, signed to them to pass in in 
front of him, and when they had done so, he too 


108 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


came in, and shut the door behind him. It was a 
queer little room — the doctor’s study evidently, for 
one end was completely filled with books, and at one 
side, through the glass doors of high cupboards in the 
wall, all kinds of mysterious instruments, chemical 
tubes and globes, high bottles filled with different- 
coloured liquids, and ever so many things the chil- 
dren had but time to glance at, were to be perceived. 
But the doctor had evidently not brought them there 
to pay him a visit. He touched a spring at the side 
of the book-shelves, and a small door opened. 

“ Come, children,” he said, speaking at last, “ this 
is another short cut. Have no fear, but follow me.” 

Full of curiosity, Rollo and Maia pressed forward. 
The doctor had already disappeared — all but his 
head, that is to say — for a winding staircase led 
downwards from the little door, and Rollo first, then 
Maia, were soon following their old friend step by 
step, holding by one hand to a thick cord which 
supplied the place of a handrail. It was almost 
quite dark, but they were not frightened. They had 
perfect trust in the old doctor, and all they had seen 
and heard since they came to the white castle had 
increased their love of adventure, without lessening 
their courage. 

“Dear me,” said Maia, after a while, for it was 
never easy for her to keep silent for very long to- 
gether, “ it isn’t a very short cut ! We seem to have 
been going down and down for a good while. My 


A WINDING STAIR AND A SCAMPER. 109 


head is beginning to feel rather turning with going 
round and round so often. How much farther are 
we to go before we come out, Mr. Doctor ? ” 

But there was no answer, only a slight exclamation 
from Rollo just in front of her, and then all of a sud- 
den a rush of light into the darkness made Maia blink 
her eyes and for a moment shut them to escape the 
dazzling rays. 

“ Good-bye,” said a voice which she knew to be the 
doctor’s ; “ I hope you will enjoy yourselves.” 

Maia opened her eyes. She had felt Rollo take 
her hand and draw her forwards a little. She opened 
her eyes, but half shut them again in astonishment. 

“ Rollo ! ” she exclaimed. 

“ And you said it was not much of a short cut,” 
replied Rollo, laughing. 

No wonder Maia was astonished. They were 
standing a few paces from the cottage door! The 
sun was shining brightly on the little garden and 
peeping through the trees, just in front of which the 
children found themselves. 

“ Where have we come from ? ” said Maia, looking 
round her confusedly. 

U 0ut of here, I think,” said Rollo, tapping the 
trunk of a great tree close beside him. “ I think we 
must have come out of a door hidden in this tree.” 

“ But we kept coming down,” said Maia. 

“ At first ; but the last part of the time it seemed 
to me we were going up ; we must have come down 


110 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


the inside of the hill and then climbed up a little 
way into the tree.” 

“ Oh, I am sure we weren’t going up” said Maia. 
“ I certainly was getting quite giddy with going 
round and round, but I’m sure I could have told if 
we’d been going up.” 

“Well, never mind. If godmother is a witch, I 
fancy the doctor’s a wizard. But anyway we’re 
here, and that’s the principal thing. Come on, 
quick, Maia, aren’t you in a hurry to know if Waldo 
and Silva are at home ? ” 

He ran on to the cottage and Maia after him. 
The door was shut. Rollo knocked, but there was 
no answer. 

“ Oh, what a pity it will be if they are not in ! ” 
said Maia. “ Knock again, Rollo, louder.” 

Rollo did so. Still there was no answer. 

“ What shall we do ? ” said the children to each 
other. “ It would be too horrid to have to go home 
and miss our chance of a holiday.” 

“We might stay in the woods by ourselves,” sug- 
gested Rollo. 

“It would be very dull,” said Maia disconsolately. 
“ I don’t think the old doctor should have brought us 
without knowing if they would be here. If he knows 
so much he might have found that out.” 

Suddenly Rollo gave an exclamation. He had 
been standing fumbling at the latch. 

“ What do you say ? ” asked Maia. 


A WINDING STAIR AND A SCAMPER. Ill 


“ The door isn’t locked. Suppose we go in? It 
would be no harm. They weren’t a bit vexed with us 
for having gone in and drunk the milk the first time.” 

“Of course not,” said Maia; “they wouldn’t be 
the least vexed. I quite thought the door was locked 
all this time. Open it, Rollo. I can’t reach so high 
or I would have found out long ago it wasn’t locked.” 

With a little difficulty Rollo opened the door. 

Everything in the tiny kitchen looked as they had 
last seen it, only, if that were possible, still neater 
and cleaner. Maia stared round as if half expecting 
to see Waldo or Silva jump out from under the chairs 
or behind the cupboard, but suddenly she darted 
forward. A white object on the table had caught 
her attention. It was a sheet of paper, on which was 
written in round clear letters : 

“ Godmother will be here in a quarter of an hour.” 

“See, Rollo,” exclaimed Maia triumphantly, “this 
must be meant for us. What a good thing we came 
in ! I don’t mind waiting a quarter of an hour.” 

“ But that paper may have been here all day. It 
may have been sent for Waldo and Silva,” said Rollo. 
“You know they told us godmother only comes 
sometimes to see them.” 

“ I don’t care,” said Maia, seating herself on one of 
the high-backed chairs. “I’m going to wait a quarter 
of an hour, and just see. Godmother doesn’t do 
things like other people, and I’m sure this message is 
for us.” 


112 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


Rollo said no more, but followed Maia’s example. 
There they sat, like two little statues, the only dis- 
traction being the tick-tack of the clock, and watch- 
ing the long hand creep slowly down the three 
divisions of its broad face which showed a quarter 
of an hour. It seemed a very long quarter of an 
hour. Maia was so little used to sitting still, except 
when she was busy with lessons, to which she was 
obliged to give her attention, that after a few minutes 
her head began to nod and at last gave such a jerk 
that she woke up with a start. 

“Dear me, isn’t it a quarter of an hour yet?” she 
exclaimed. 

“ No, it’s hardly five minutes,” said Rollo, rather 
grumpily, for he thought this was a very dull way of 
spending a holiday, and he would rather have gone 
out into the woods than sit there waiting. Maia 
leant her head again on the back of her chair. 

“Suppose we count ten times up to sixty,” she 
said. “ That w^ould be ten minutes if we go by the 
ticks of the clock, and if she isn’t here then, I won’t 
ask you to wait any longer.” 

“We can see the time,” said Rollo; “I don’t see 
the use of counting it loud out.” 

Maia said nothing more. Whether she took 
another little nap; whether Rollo himself did not 
do so also I cannot say. All I know is that just 
exactly as the hand of the clock had got to fourteen 
minutes from the time they had begun watching it, 


A WINDING STAIR AND A SCAMPER. 113 


both children started to their feet and looked at each 
other. 

“ Do you hear? ” said Maia. 

“ It’s a carriage,” exclaimed Rollo. 

“ How could a carriage come through the wood ? 
There’s no path wide enough.” 

“ But it is a carriage ; ” and to settle the point 
both ran to the door to see. 

It came swiftly along, in and out among the trees 
without difficulty, so small was it. The two tiny pie- 
bald ponies that drew it shook their wavy manes as 
they danced along, the little bells on their necks ring- 
ing softly. A funny idea struck Maia as she watched 
it. It looked just like a toy meant for some giant’s 
child which had dropped off one of the huge Christ- 
mas-trees, waiting there to be decked for Santa 
Claus’s festival ! But the queerest part of the sight 
for them was when the carriage came near enough 
for them to see that godmother herself was driving 
it. She did look so comical, perched up on the little 
seat and chirrupping and wo-wohing to her steeds, 
and she seemed to have grown so small, oh, so small ! 
Otherwise how could she ever have got into a car- 
riage really not much too large for a baby of two 
years old ? 

On she drove, and drew up in grand style just in 
front of where the children were standing. 

“Jump in,” she said, nodding off-handedly, hut 
without any other greeting. 


114 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“But how — ? ” began Maia. “How can Rollo 
and I possibly get into that tiny carriage?” were the 
words on her lips, but somehow before she began to 
say them, they melted away, and almost without 
knowing how, she found herself getting into the 
back seat of the little phaeton, with Rollo beside her, 
and in another moment — crack ! went godmother’s 
whip, and off they set. 

They went so fast, oh, so fast! There did not 
seem time to consider whether they were comfortable 
or not, or how it was they fitted so well into the 
carriage, small as it was, or anything but just the 
delicious feeling of flying along, which shows that 
they must have been very comfortable, does it not? 
In and out among the great looming pine-trees their 
strange coachman made her way, without once hesi- 
tating or wavering, so that the children felt no fear 
of striking against the massive trunks, even though 
it grew darker and gloomier and the Christmas-trees 
had certainly never looked anything like so enormous. 

“ Or can it be that we have really grown smaller ? ” 
thought Maia ; but her thoughts were quickly inter- 
rupted by a merry cry from godmother, “ Hold fast, 
children, we’re going to have a leap.” 

Godmother was certainly in a very comical humour. 
But for her voice and her bright eyes when they 
peeped out from under her hood the children would 
scarcely have known her. She was like a little mis- 
chievous old sprite instead of the soft, tender, mys- 


A WINDING STAIR AND A SCAMPER. 115 


terious being who had petted them so sweetly and 
told them the quiet story of gentle Aureole the 
other day. In a different kind of way Maia felt again 
almost a very little bit afraid of her, but Rollo’s spirits 
rose with the fun, his cheeks grew rosier and his 
eyes brighter, though he was very kind to Maia too, 
and put his arm round her to keep her steady in 
preparation for godmother’s flying leap, over they 
knew not what. But it was beautifully managed ; 
not only the ponies, but the carriage too, seemed to 
acquire wings for the occasion, and there was not 
the slightest jar or shock, only a strange lifting feel- 
ing, and then softly down again, and on, on, through 
trees and brushwood, faster and faster, as surely no 
ponies ever galloped before. 

“ Are you frightened, Rollo ? ” whispered Maia. 

“Not a bit. Why should I be ? Godmother can 
take care of us, and even if she wasn’t there, one 
couldn’t be frightened flying along with those splen- 
did little ponies.” 

“ What was it we jumped over ? ” asked Maia. 

Godmother heard her and turned round. 

“We jumped over the brook,” she said. “Don’t 
you remember the little brook that runs through the 
wood ? ” 

“ The brook that Rollo and I go over by the step- 
ping stones ? It’s a very little brook, godmother. I 
should think the carriage might have driven over 
without jumping.” 


116 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“ Hush ! ” said godmother, “ we’re getting into the 
middle of the wood and I must drive carefully.” 

But she did not go any more slowly ; it got darker 
and darker as the trees grew more closely together. 
The children saw, as they looked round, that they had 
never been so far in the forest before. 

“I wonder when we shall see Silva and Waldo,” 
thought Maia, and somehow the thought seemed to 
bring its answer, for just as it passed through her mind, 
a clear bright voice called out from among the trees : 

“ Godmother, godmother, don’t drive too far. Here 
we are waiting for you.” 

“ Waldo and Silva ! ” exclaimed the children. The 
ponies suddenly stopped, and out jumped or tumbled 
into the arms of their friends It olio and Maia. 

“ Oh, Waldo ! oh, Silva ! ” they exclaimed. “ We’ve 
had such a drive ! Godmother has brought us along 
like the wind.” 

Silva nodded her head. “ I know,” she said, smil- 
ing. “ There is no one so funny as godmother when 
she is in a wild humour. You may be glad you are 
here all right. She would have thought nothing of 
driving on to — ” Silva stopped, at a loss what place 
to name. 

“ To where ? ” said the children. 

“ Oh, to the moon, or the stars, or down to the 
bottom of the sea, or anywhere that came into her 
head!” said Silva, laughing. “ For, you know, she 
can go anywhere .” 


A WINDING STAIR AND A SCAMPER. 117 

44 Can she ? ” exclaimed Maia. 44 Oh, what won- 
derful stories we can make her tell us, then ! God- 
mother, godmother, do you hear what Silva says?” 
she went on, turning round to where she thought the 
carriage and ponies and godmother were standing. 
But — 


■ CHAPTER VIII. 


THE SQUIRREL FAMILY. 

“ How extremely pretty ! 

Won’t you jump again ? ” 

Child- World. 

— godmother was no longer there. She and 
the carriage and the ponies had completely disap- 
peared. Maia opened her eyes and mouth with 
amazement, and stood staring. Waldo and Silva and 
Rollo too could not help bursting out laughing ; she 
looked so funny. Maia felt a little offended. 

“ I don’t see what there is to laugh at,” she said ; 
“especially for you, Rollo. Aren’t you astonished 
too?” 

“ I don’t think I should ever be astonished at any- 
thing about godmother,” said Rollo. “ Besides, I saw 
her drive off while you were kissing Silva. She 
certainly went like the wind.” 

“And where are we?” asked Maia, looking round 
her for the first time ; “ and what are we going to do, 
Silva?” 

“We are going to pay a visit,” said Silva. “ Waldo 
and I had already promised we would when we got 
the message that you were coming, so godmother said 
she would go back and fetch you.” 

* 118 


THE SQUIRREL FAMILY. 


119 


44 But who brought you a message that we were 
coming ? ” asked Maia. 

44 One of godmother’s carrier pigeons. Ah, I for- 
got, you haven’t seen them yet ! ” 

44 And where are we going ? ” 

44 To spend the afternoon with the squirrel family. 
It’s close to here, but we must be quick. They will 
have been expecting us for some time. You show us 
the way, W aldo ; you know it best.” 

It was dark in the wood, but not so dark as it had 
been when they were driving with godmother, for a 
few steps brought them out into a little clearing, 
something like the one where the cottage stood, but 
smaller. The mossy grass here was particularly 
beautiful, so bright and green and soft that Maia 
stooped down to feel it with her hand. 

44 1 suppose no one ever comes this way ? ” she 
said. 44 Is it because no one ever tramples on it that 
the moss is so lovely?” 

44 Nobody but us and the squirrels,” said Silva. 
44 Sometimes we play with them out here, but to-day 
we are going to see them in their house. Sometimes 
they have parties, when they invite their cousins 
from the other side of the wood. But I don’t think 
any of them are coming to-day.” 

Silva spoke so simply that Maia could not think 
she was making fun of her, and yet it was very odd 
to speak of squirrels as if they were people. Maia 
could not, however, ask any more, for suddenly 
Waldo called out: 


120 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“ Here we are ! Silva, you are going too far.” 

Rollo and Maia looked round, but they saw nothing 
except the trees. Waldo was standing just in front 
of one, and as the others came up to him he tapped 
gently on the trunk. 

“ Three times,” said Silva. 

“ I know,” he replied. Then he tapped twice again, 
Rollo and Maia looking on with all their eyes. But 
it was their ears that first gave them notice of an 
answer to Waldo’s summons. A quick pattering 
sound, like the rush of many little feet, was heard 
inside the trunk, then with a kind of squeak, as if 
the hinges were somewhat rusty, a door, so cleverly 
made that no one could have guessed it was there, 
for it was covered with bark like the rest of the trunk, 
slowly opened from the inside, showing a dark hollow 
about large enough for one child at a time to creep 
into on hands and knees. 

“Who will go first? ” said Waldo, lifting his little 
rep cap as he looked at Maia. 

“What nice manners he has,” she thought to her- 
self. “ I think you had better go first, please,” she 
said aloud. For though she would not own it, the 
appearance of the dark hole rather alarmed her. 

“ But we can’t all get in there,” said Rollo. 

“Oh, yes,” replied Waldo. “I’ll go first, and 
when I call out 4 all right,’ one of you can come after 
me. The passage gets wider directly, or — anyway 
there’s lots of room — you’ll see,” and, ducking down, 


THE SQUIRREL FAMILY. 


121 


he crept very cleverly into the hollow, and after a 
moment his voice was heard, though in rather muffled 
tones, calling out “ all right.” Rollo, not liking to 
seem backward, went next, and Mafa, who was 
secretly trembling, was much comforted by hearing 
him exclaim, 44 Oh, how beautiful ! ” and when Silva 
asked her to go next, saying “Maia might like to 
know she was behind her,” she plunged valiantly into 
the dark hole. She groped with her hands for a 
moment or two, till the boys’ voices a little way above 
her led her to a short flight of steps, which she easily 
climbed up, and then a soft light broke on her eyes, 
and she understood why Rollo had called out, 44 Oh, 
how beautiful ! ” 

They stood at the entrance^ of a long passage, 
quite wide enough for two to walk abreast comfort- 
ably. It was entirely lined and carpeted with moss, 
and the light came from the roof, though how one 
could not tell, for it too was trellised over with 
another kind of creeping plant, growing too thickly 
for one to see between. The moss had a sweet fresh 
fragrance that reminded the children of the scent of 
their other world flowers, and it was, besides, deli- 
ciously soft and yet springy to walk upon. 

Waldo and Rollo came running back to meet the 
little girls, for Silva had quickly followed Maia. 

“ Isn’t this a nice place ? ” said Rollo, jumping up 
and down as he spoke. 44 We might run races here 
all the afternoon.” 


122 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“ Yes ; but we must hasten on,” said Silva. 
“ They’re expecting us, you know. But we can 
run races all the same, for we’ve a good way along 
here to go. You and Waldo start first, and then 
Maia and I.” 

So they did, and never was there a race pleasanter 
to run. They felt as if they had wings on their 
feet, they went so fast and were so untired. The 
moss gallery resounded with their laughter and merry 
cries, though their footfalls made no sound on the 
floor. 

“ What was the pattering we heard after W aldo 
knocked ? ” asked Maia suddenly. 

“ It was the squirrels overhead. They all have to 
run together to pull open the door,” said Silva. 
“ The rope goes up to their hall. But you will see 
it all for yourself now. This is the end of the 
gallery.” 

“ This ” was a circular room, moss-lined like the 
passage, with a wide round hole in the roof, from 
which, as the children stood waiting, descended a 
basket, fitted with moss cushions, and big enough to 
hold all of them at once. In they got, and immedi- 
ately the basket rose up again and stopped at what, 
in a proper house, one would call the next floor. 
And even before it stopped a whole mass of brown 
heads were to be seen eagerly watching for it, and 
numbers of little brown paws were extended to help 
the visitors to step out. 


THE SQUIRREL FAMILY. 


123 


“ Good-day, good-day,” squeaked a multitude of 
shrill voices ; “welcome to Squirrel-Land. We have 
been watching for you ever so long, since the pigeon 
brought the news. And the supper is all ready. 
The acorn cakes smelling so good and the chestnut 
pasties done to a turn.” 

“ Thank you, thank you, Mrs. Bushy ! ” said Silva. 
“ I am sure they will be excellent. But first, I must 
introduce our friends and you to each other. Maia 
and Rollo, this is Mrs. Bushy,” and as she said so the 
fattest and fussiest of the squirrels made a duck with 
its head and a flourish with its tail, which were 
meant for the most graceful of curtsies. “ Mr. 
Bushy — ” she stopped and looked round. 

“ Alas ! my dear husband is very lame with his gout 
to-day,” said Mrs. Bushy. “ He took too much exer- 
cise yesterday. I’m sure if he went once to the 
top of the tree he went twenty times — he is so active, 
you know ; so he’s resting in the supper-room ; but 
you’ll see him presently. And here are my dear 
children, Miss Silva. Stand forward, my dears, you 
have nothing to be ashamed of. Do look at their 
tails — though I say it that should’nt, did you ever 
see such tails?” and Mrs. Bushy’s bright eyes 
sparkled with maternal pride. “ There they are, all 
nine of them : Nibble, Scramble, Bunchy, Friskit, 
and Whiff, my dear boys ; and Clamberina, Fluffy, 
Tossie, and sweet little Curletta, my no less beloved 
daughters.” 


124 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


Whereupon each one of the nine, who had col- 
lected in a row, made the same duck with its head and 
flourish with its tail as Mrs. Bushy, though, of course, 
with somewhat less perfection of style and finish than 
their dear mamma. 

“ Such manners, such sweet manners ! ” she mur- 
mured confidentially to Silva and Maia. 

Maia was by this time nearly choking with 
laughter — “ Though I say it that should’nt say it, I 
am sure you young ladies must be pleased with their 
sweet manners.” 

“Very pleased, dear Mrs. Bushy,” said Silva ; “ I’m 
sure they’ve learned to duck their heads and wave 
their tails beautifully.” 

“Beautifully,” said Maia, at which Mrs. Bushy 
looked much gratified. 

“ And shall we proceed to supper, then ? ” she said. 
“ I am sure you must be hungry.” 

“Yes, I think we are,” said Waldo; “ and I know 
your chestnut cakes are very good, Mrs. Bushy.” 

Rollo and Maia looked at each other. Chestnuts 
were very nice, but what would chestnut cakes be 
like ? Besides, it wasn’t the season for chestnuts ; 
they must be very old and stale. 

“ How can you have chestnuts now?” asked Maia. 
Mrs. Bushy looked at her patronisingly. 

“_Ah, to be sure,” she said, “ the young lady does 
not know all about our magic preserving cupboards, 
and all the newest improvements. To be sure, it is 


THE SQUIRREL FAMILY. 


125 


her first visit to Squirrel-Land,” she added encour- 
agingly; “we can make allowance. Now, lead the 
way, my dears, lead the way,” she said to her nine 
treasures, who thereupon set off with a rush, jump- 
ing and frisking and scuttering along, till Maia could 
hardly help bursting out laughing again, while she 
and Silva and Rollo and Waldo followed them into 
the supper-room, where, at the end of a long narrow 
table, covered with all sorts of queer-looking dishes, 
decorated with fern leaves, Papa Bushy, in a moss 
arm-chair, his tail comfortably waving over him like 
an umbrella, was already installed. 

“ I beg your pardon, my dear young friends,” he 
began, in a rather deeper, though still squeaky voice, 
“ for receiving you like this. Mrs. Bushy will have 
made my apologies. This unfortunate attack of 
gout ! I am, I fear, too actively inclined, and have 
knocked myself up ! ” 

“Ah, yes,” said Mrs. Bushy, shaking her head; 
“ I’m sure if Mr. Bushy goes once a day to the top of 
the tree, he goes twenty times.” 

“ But what does he go for if it makes him ill ? ” 
exclaimed Maia. 

Mrs. Bushy looked at her and gasped, Mr. Bushy 
shut his eyes and waved his paws about as if to say, 
“We must excuse her, she knows no better,” and all 
the young Bushys ducked their heads and squeaked 
faintly, — evidently Maia had said something very 
startling. At last, when she had to some extent 


126 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


recovered her self-control, Mrs. Bushy said faintly, 
looking round her for sympathy : 

“ Poor child ! Such deplorable ignorance ; but we 
must excuse it. Imagine her not knowing — imagine 
any one not knowing what would happen if Mr. 
Bushy did not go to the top of the tree ! ” 

“ What would happen ? ” said Maia, not sure if she 
felt snubbed or not, but not inclined to give in all 
at once. 

“ My poor child,” said Mrs. Bushy, in the most 
solemn tone her squeaky voice was capable of, “ the 
world would stop ! ” 

Maia stared at her, but what she was going to say 
I cannot tell you, for Silva managed to give her a 
little pinch, as a sign that she had better make no 
more remarks, and Mrs. Bushy, feeling that she had 
done her duty, requested everybody to take their 
places at table. The dishes placed before them were 
so comical-looking that Rollo and Maia did not know 
what to reply when asked what they would have. 

“ An apple, if you please ! ” said Maia, catching 
sight at last of something she knew the name of. 
But when Mrs. Bushy pressed her to try a chestnut 
cake she did not like to refuse, and seeing that 
Waldo and Silva were careful to eat like the squir- 
rels, holding up both hands together like paws to 
their mouths, she and Rollo did the same, which 
evidently gave the Bushy family a better opinion of 
the way in which they had been brought up. The 


THE SQUIRREL FAMILY. 


127 


chestnut cakes were rather nice, but poor Rollo, hav- 
ing ventured on some fried acorns which smelt good, 
could not help pulling a very wry face. Supper 
however, was soon over, and then Waldo and Silva 
asked leave very politely to go “ up the tree,” which 
in squirrel language was much the same as if they 
had asked to go out to the garden, and Mrs. Bushy, 
with many excuses for not accompanying them on 
account of her household cares, and Mr. Bushy, 
pleading his gout, told her nine darlings to escort 
the visitors upstairs. 

Now began the real fun of the afternoon. A short 
flight of steps, like a little ladder, led them to the 
outside of the tree. The nine Bushys scampered 
and rushed along, squeaking and chattering with the 
greatest good-nature, followed more slowly by the 
four children. For a moment or two, when Rollo 
and Maia found themselves standing on a branch 
very near the top of the tree, though, strange to say, 
they found it wide enough to hold them quite com- 
fortably, they felt rather giddy and frightened. 

“ How dreadfully high up we seem ! ” said Maia. 
“ Rollo, I’m sure we must have grown smaller. The 
trees never looked so big as this before. It makes 
me giddy to look either up or down.” 

“You’ll get used to it in a minute,” said Waldo. 
“ Silva and I don’t mind it the least now. Look at 
the Bushys, Maia, isn’t it fun to see them?” 

And Maia forgot her fears in watching the nine 


128 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


young squirrels. Had Mrs. Bushy been with them, 
her maternal vanity would have been gratified by 
the admiration their exploits drew forth. It really 
was the funniest and prettiest sight in the world to 
see them at their gambols. No dancers on the tight- 
rope were ever half so clever. They swung them- 
selves up by the branches to the very top of the 
tree, and then in an instant — flash ! — there they 
were ever so far below where the children were 
standing. And in another instant, like a brown 
streak, up they were again, darting hither, there, and 
everywhere, so that one felt as if the whole tree were 
alive. When they had a little worked off their 
spirits they squeaked to the children to join them ; 
Waldo and Silva did so at once, for they were used 
to these eccentric gymnastics, and to Rollo and Maia 
they looked nearly as clever as the squirrels them- 
selves, as, holding on by their companions’ paws and 
tails, they jumped and clambered and slid up and 
down. So in a little while the new-comers too took 
courage and found the performances, like many other 
things, not half so hard as they looked. And oh, 
how they all laughed and screamed, and how the 
squirrels squeaked with enjoyment! I don’t think 
ever children before had such fun. Fancy the pleas- 
ure of swaying in a branch ever so far overhead quite 
safe, for their were the nine in a circle ready to 
catch you if you slipped, and then hand in hand, or 
rather hand in paw, dancing round the trunk by 



I don’t think ever Children before had such Fun.— p. 128 . 






THE SQUIRREL FAMILY. 


129 


hopping two and two from branch to branch, nine 
squirrels and four children — a merry baker’s dozen. 
Then the sliding down the tree, like a climber on a 
May-pole, was great fun too, for the Bushys had a 
way of twisting themselves round it so as to avoid 
the sticking-out branches that was really very clever. 
So that when suddenly, in the middle of it all, a 
little silvery tinkling bell was heard to ring, and 
they all stood still looking at each other, Rollo and 
Maia felt quite vexed at the interruption. 

“ Go on,” said Maia, “ what are you all stopping 
for?” 

“ The summons,” said Waldo and Silva together. 
“We must go. Good-night, all of you,” to the 
squirrels. Had their mother been there, I fancy 
they would have addressed Clamberina and her 
brothers and sisters more ceremoniously. “ Good- 
bye and thank you for all the fun.” 

“ Good-bye, and thank you,” said Rollo and Maia, 
rather at a loss as to whether they should offer to 
shake paws, or if that was not squirrel fashion. But 
before they had time to consider, “ Quick,” said a 
voice behind them', which they were not slow to 
recognise, “slide down the tree,” and down they 
slid, all four, though, giving one glance upwards, 
they caught sight of the nine squirrels all seated in 
a row on a branch, each with their pocket-handker- 
chief at their eyes, weeping copiously. 

“Poor things,” said Maia, “how tender-hearted 
they are ! ” 


130 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“ They always do that when we come away,” said 
Waldo; “it’s part of their manners. But they are 
very good-natured.” 

“ And where’s godmother,” said Maia, when they 
found themselves on terra-firma again. “Wasn’t it 
her voice that spoke to us up on the tree, and told 
us to come down ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Silva ; “ but she called up through a 
speaking-trumpet. I don’t know where she is her- 
self. She may be a good way off. But that doesn’t 
matter. We can tell what to do. Lay your ear to 
the ground, Waldo.” 

Waldo did so. 

“ Are they coming ? ” asked Silva. 

“Yes,” said Waldo, getting up; “they’ll be here 
directly ; ” and almost before he had left off speaking 
the pretty sound of tinkling bells was heard ap- 
proaching, nearer and nearer every second, till the 
children, to their delight, caught sight of the little 
carriage and the tiny piebald ponies, which came 
dancing up to them all of themselves, and stood 
waiting for them to get in. 

“ But where’s godmother ? ” exclaimed Maia ; “how 
can we get home without her ? ” 

“All right,” said Waldo; “she often lends Silva 
and me her ponies. I can drive you home quite 
safely, you’ll see. Get in, Maia and Silva behind — 
Rollo and I will go in front.” 

And off they set. It was not quite such a harum- 


THE SQUIRREL FAMILY. 


131 


scarum drive as it had been coming. Waldo did not 
take any flying leaps — indeed, I think nobody but 
godmother herself could have managed that ! but it 
was very delightful all the same. 

“ Oh, Silva,” exclaimed Maia, “ I do so wish we 
need not go back to the white castle and Lady 
Venelda and our lessons! I do so wish we might 
live in the cottage with you. and Waldo, always .” 

Silva looked a little sorry when Maia spoke 
thus. 

“ Don’t say that, Maia,” she said. “ Godmother 
wouldn’t like it. We want to make you happy while 
you’re here — not to make you impatient. If you 
and Hollo were always at the cottage, you wouldn’t 
like it half so much as you do now, coming some- 
times. You would soon get tired of it, unless you 
worked hard like Waldo and me.” 

“ Do you work hard ? ” said Maia, with some sur- 
prise. 

“Yes, of course we do. You only see us at our 
playtime. Waldo goes off to the forester’s at the 
other side of the wood every morning at six, and I 
take him his dinner every day, and then I stay there 
and work in the dairy till we come home together in 
the evening.” 

“ But you sometimes have holidays,” said Maia. 

“ Yes, of course we do,” said Silva, smiling. “ God- 
mother sees to that.” 

“How?” asked Maia. “Does she know the for- 


132 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


ester and his wife? Does she go and ask them to 
give you a holiday ? ” 

“Not exactly,” said Silva, smiling. “I can’t tell 
you how she does it. She has her own ways for doing 
everything. How does she get you your holidays ? ” 

“ Does she get us them ? ” said Maia, astonished. 
“Why, Lady Yenelda never speaks of her. Do you 
think she knows her ? ” . 

“ I can’t tell you,” said Silva, again smiling in the 
same rather strange way as before, and somehow 
when she smiled like that she reminded Maia of god- 
mother herself ; “ but she does know somebody at the 
white castle, and somebody there knows her.” 

“ The old doctor ! ” exclaimed Maia, clapping her 
hands. “ I’m sure you mean the old doctor. Ah ! 
that’s how it is, is it? Godmother sends to the old 
doctor or writes to him, or — or — I don’t know what 
— and then he finds out we need a holiday, and — oh, 
he manages it somehow, I suppose ! ” 

“Yes,” said Silva; “but as long as you get your 
holiday it’s all right. When godmother tells us of 
anything we’re to do, or that she has settled for us, 
we’re quite pleased without asking her all the little 
bits about it.” 

“ I see,” said Maia ; “ but then, Silva, you’re differ- 
ent from me.” 

“ Of course I am,” said Silva ; “ but it wouldn’t be 
at all nice if everybody was the same. That’s one of 
the things godmother always says.” 


THE SQUIRREL FAMILY. 


133 


“Yes, like what she says about how stupid it 
would be if we knew everything, and if there was 
nothing more to puzzle and wonder about. It is 
nice to wonder and puzzle sometimes, but not always. 
Just now I don’t mind about anything except about 
the fun of going so fast, with those dear little ponies’ 
bells tinkling all the way. I shall be so sorry to get 
to the cottage, for we shan’t have time to go in, 
Silva. We shall have to hurry home not to be too 
late for supper.” 

Just as she spoke Waldo pulled up sharply. 

“ What’s the matter ? ” called out Maia. She had 
been talking so much to Silva that she had not 
noticed the way they were going. Now she looked 
about her, and it seemed to her that she recognised 
the look of the trees, which were much less close and 
thick than in the middle of the forest. But before 
she had time to think more about it a voice close at 
hand made both her and Rollo start. 

“Well, young people,” it said, “you have had, I 
hope, a pleasant day? You, too, Waldo and Silva? 
It is some time since I have seen you, my children.” 

It was, of course, the voice of the doctor. All the 
four jumped out of the little carriage and ran forward 
to their old friend, for to Rollo’s and Maia’s surprise, 
the two forest children seemed to know him quite as 
well as they did themselves. 

He seemed delighted to see them all, and his kind 
old face shone with pleasure as he patted the curly 


134 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


heads of the boys and Maia, and stroked gently 
Silva’s pretty, smooth hair. 

“ But you must go home,” he said to Waldo and 
Silva. “ Good-night, my children ; ” and quickly bid- 
ding their little friends farewell, the brother and sister 
sprang up again into the tiny carriage, and in another 
moment the more and more faintly-tinkling bells were 
all left of them, as Rollo and Maia stood a little sadly, 
gazing in the direction in which they had disappeared. 

“ And you have been happy ? ” said the old doctor. 

“ Very happy,” both replied together. “ We have 
had such fun.” But before they had time to tell 
their old friend anything more he interrupted them. 

“ You, too, must hurry home,” he said. “ You see 
where you are ? Up the path to the right and you 
will come out at the usual place just behind the 
castle wall at the back.” 

; Rollo and Maia hastened to obey him. 

“ How queer he is ! ” said Maia. “ He doesn’t seem 
to care to hear what we’ve been doing — he never 
asks anything but if we’ve been happy.” 

“ Well, what does it matter?” said Rollo. “ I like 
only to talk to ourselves of the queer things we see 
when we’re with Waldo and Silva. I wonder what 
they will show us or where they will take us the 
next time ? ” 

“ So do I,” said Maia. 

“ Waldo said something about the eagles that live 
up in the high rocks at the edge of the forest,” said 


THE SQUIRREL FAMILY. 


135 


Rollo. “ He did not exactly say so, but he spoke as 
if he had been there. Wouldn’t you like to see an 
eagles’ nest, Maia ? ” 

“ I should think so, indeed ! ” replied Maia eagerly. 
“But I don’t think that’s what they call it, Rollo ; 
there’s another name.” 

“ Yes, I think there is, but I can’t remember it,” he 
answered. “ But never mind, Maia, here we are at 
the gate. We must run in and get ready for supper.” 


CHAPTER IX. 


A COMMITTEE OF BIRDS. 

“ Then a sound is heard, 

A sudden rushing sound of many wings.” 

Nothing was asked of the children as to where or 
how they had spent their day. Lady Venelda looked 
at them kindly as they took their places at the supper- 
table, and she kissed them when they said good-night 
as if she were quite pleased with them. They were 
not sorry to go to bed ; for however delightful squirrel 
gymnastics are, they are somewhat fatiguing, espe- 
cially to those who are not accustomed to them, and 
I can assure you that Rollo and Maia slept soundly 
that night; thanks to which, no doubt, they woke 
next morning as fresh as larks. 

Their lessons were all done to the satisfaction of 
their teachers, so that in the afternoon, when, as they 
were setting off with Nanni for their usual walk, 
they met the old doctor on the terrace, he nodded at 
them good-humouredly. 

“ That’s right,” he said ; “ holidays do you no 
harm, I see.” 

“ And we may have another before very long, then, 
mayn’t we?” said Maia, whose little tongue was 
always the readiest. 


136 


A COMMITTEE OF BIRDS. 


137 


“ All in good time,” said the old man, and as they 
had found his memory so good hitherto, the children 
felt that they might trust him for the future. 

They did not go in the direction of the cottage 
to-day. Though they had not exactly been told so, 
they had come to understand that when godmother 
wanted them, or had arranged some pleasure for them 
and her forest children, she would find some means 
of letting them know, and the sort of desire to please 
and obey her which they felt seemed even stronger 
than if her wishes had been put down in plain rules. 
And when Nanni was with them they now took care 
not to speak of the cottage or their friends there, for 
she could not have understood about them, and she 
would only have been troubled and frightened. But 
yet the thought of Waldo and Silva and godmother 
and the cottage, and all the pleasure and fun they 
had had, seemed never quite away. It hovered about 
them like the impression of a happy dream, which 
seems to make the whole day brighter, though we 
can scarcely tell how. 

The spring was now coming on fast; and what 
can be more delightful than spring-time in the woods ? 
With the increasing warmth and sunshine the scent 
of the pines seemed to waft out into the air, the 
primroses and violets opened their eyes, and the 
birds overhead twittered and trilled in their perfect 
happiness. 

“How can any one be so cruel as to shoot them?” 


138 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


said Maia one afternoon about a week after the visit 
to the squirrels. 

“ I don’t think any one would shoot these tiny 
birds,” said Rollo. 

“ I am afraid they do in some countries,” said 
Maia. “ Not here ; I don’t think godmother would 
let them. I think nobody can do anything in these 
woods against her wishes,” she went on in a lower 
tone, glancing in Nanni’s direction. But that young 
woman was knitting away calmly, with an expression 
of complete content on her rosy face. 

“ Rollo,” Maia continued, “ come close to me. I 
want to speak in a whisper ; ” and Rollo, who, like 
his sister, was stretched at full length on the ground, 
thickly carpeted with the tiny dry-brown spikes 
which had fallen from the fir-trees during the winter, 
edged himself along by his elbows without getting 
up, till he was near enough to hear Maia’s lowest 
murmur. 

“ Lazy boy,” she said, laughing. “Is it too much 
trouble to move?” 

“ It’s too much trouble to stand up anyway,” re- 
plied Rollo. “ What is it you want to say, Maia ? I 
do think there’s something in these woods that puts 
one to sleep, as Nanni says.” 

“ So do I,” said Maia, and her voice had a half 
sleepy sound as she spoke. “ I don’t quite know 
what I wanted to say, Rollo. It was only something 
about them , you know.” 


A COMMITTEE OF BIRDS. 


139 


“ You needn’t be the least afraid — Nanni can’t 
hear,” said Rollo, without moving. 

“ Well, I only wanted to talk a little about them. 
Just to wonder, you know, if they won’t soon be 
sending for us — -making some new treat. It seems 
such a long time since we saw them.” 

“ Only a week,” said Rollo, sleepily. 

“Well, a .week’s a good while,” pursued Maia; 
“ and I’m sure we’ve done our lessons very well all 
this time, and nobody’s had to scold us for anything. 
Rollo — ” 

“ Oh, I do wish you’d let me take a little sleep,” 
said poor Rollo. 

“ Oh, very well, then ! I won’t talk if you want 
to go to sleep,” said Maia, in a slightly offended 
tone ; “ though I must say I think it is very stupid 
of you when we’ve been shut up at our lessons all 
the morning, and we have only an hour to stay out, 
to want to spend it all in sleeping.” 

But she said no more, for by this time Rollo was 
quite asleep, and the click-click of Nanni’s knitting- 
needles grew fainter and fainter, till Maia, looking 
round to see why she was stopping, discovered that 
Nanni too had given in to the influence of the woods. 
She was asleep, and doubtless dreaming pleasantly, 
for there was a broad smile on her good-natured 
face. 

“ Stupid things ! ” thought Maia to herself. And 
then she began wondering what amusement she 


140 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


could find till it was time to go home again. “For 
Tm not sleepy,” she said , “ it is only the twinkling 
way the sunshine comes through the trees that makes 
my eyes feel rather dazzled. I may as well shut 
them a little, and as I have no one to talk to I will 
try to say over my French poetry, so that I shall 
know it quite well for Mademoiselle Delphine to- 
morrow morning.” 

The French poetry was long and dull. The com- 
plaint of a shepherdess for the loss of her sheep was 
the name of it, and Maia had not found it easy to 
learn, for, like many things it was then the custom to 
teach children, it was neither interesting nor in- 
structive. But if it did her good in no other way, it 
was a lesson of patience, and Maia had worked hard 
at it. She now began to say it over to herself from 
the beginning in a low monotonous voice, her eyes 
closed as she half lay, half sat, leaning her head on 
the trunk of one of the great trees. It seemed to 
her that her poetry went wonderfully well. Never 
before had it sounded to her so musical. She really 
felt quite a pleasure in softly murmuring the lines, 
and quite unconsciously they seemed to set them- 
selves to an air she had often been sung to sleep to 
by her nurse when a very little girl, till to her sur- 
prise Maia found herself singing in a low but exqui- 
sitely sweet voice. 

“ I never knew I could sing so beautifully,” she 
thought to herself ; “ I must tell Rollo about it.” 


A COMMITTEE OF BIRDS. 


141 


But she did not feel inclined to wake him up to 
listen to it. She had indeed forgotten all about him 
being asleep at her side — she had forgotten every- 
thing but the beauty of her song and the pleasure of 
her newly-discovered talent. And on and on she 
sang, like the bewitched Princess, though what she 
was singing about she could not by this time have 
told, till all of a sudden she became aware that she 
was not singing alone — or, at least, not without an 
accompaniment. For all through her singing, some- 
times rising above it, sometimes gently sinking below, 
was a sweet trilling warble, purer and clearer than 
the sound of a running brook, softer and mellower 
than the music of any instrument Maia had ever 
heard. 

“ What can it be ? ” thought Maia. She half deter- 
mined to open her eyes to look, but she refrained 
from a vague fear that if she did so it might perhaps 
scare the music away. But unconsciously she had 
stopped singing, and just then a new sound as of 
innumerable wings close to her made her forget all 
in her curiosity to see what it was. She opened her 
eyes in time to see fluttering downwards an immense 
flock of birds — birds of every shape and colour, 
though none of them were very big, the largest 
being about the size of a parrot. There lay Rollo, 
fast asleep, in the midst of the crowd of feathered 
creatures, and something — an instinct she could not 
explain — made Maia quickly shut her eyes again. 


142 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


She was not afraid, but she felt sure the birds would 
not have come so near had they not thought her 
asleep too. So she remained perfectly still, leaning 
her head against the trunk of the tree and covering 
her face with her hand, so that she could peep out 
between the fingers while yet seeming to be asleep. 

The flutter gradually ceased, and the great flock 
of birds settled softly on the ground. Then began a 
clear chirping which, to Maia’s delight, as she lis- 
tened with all her ears, gradually seemed to shape 
itself into words which she could understand. 

“Do you think they liked our music?” piped a 
bird, or several birds together — it was impossible to 
say which. 

“ I think so,” answered some other ; “ he ” — and 
Maia understood that they were speaking of Rollo — 
“ has heard it but dimly — he is farther away. But 
she was nearer us and will not forget it.” 

“ They seem good children,” said in a more squeaky 
tone a black and white bird, hopping forward a little 
by himself. He appeared to Maia to be some kind 
of crow or raven, but she disliked his rather patronis- 
ing tone. 

“Good children,” she said to herself. “What 
business has an old crow to talk of us as good 
children ! ” 

“ Ah, yes ! ” replied a little brown bird which had 
established itself on a twig just above Rollo’s head. 
“ If they had not been so, you may be sure she would 


A COMMITTEE OF BIRDS. 


143 


have had nothing to do with them, instead of making 
them as happy as she can, and giving orders all 
through the forest that they are to be entertained. 
I hear they amused themselves very well at the 
squirrels’ the other day.” 

“ Ah, indeed ! A party ? ” 

“ Oh, no — just a simple gambolade. Had it been 
a party, of course our services would have been 
retained for the music.” 

“ Naturally,” replied the little brown bird. “ Of 
course no musical entertainment would be complete 
without you, Mr. Crow.” 

The old black bird giggled. He seemed quite 
flattered, and was evidently on the point of replying 
to his small brown friend by some amiable speech, 
when a soft cooing voice interrupted him. It was 
that of a wood-pigeon, who, with two or three com- 
panions, came hopping up to them. 

“What are we to do?” she said. “Shall we 
warble a slumber-song for them? They are sleep- 
ing still.” 

The old crow glanced at the children. 

“ I fancy they have had enough music for to-day,” 
he said. “ I think we should consult together seri- 
ously about what we can do for their entertainment. 
It won’t do to let the squirrels be the only ones to 
show them attention. Besides, children who come to 
our woods and amuse themselves without ever rob- 
bing a nest, catching a butterfly, or causing the slight- 


144 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


est alarm to even a hare — such children deserve to be 
rewarded.” 

“What can we do for them?” chirruped a brisk 
little robin. “We have given them a concert, which 
has had the effect ” — and he made a patronising little 
bow in the direction of Rollo and Maia — “ the effect 
— of sending them to sleep.” 

“I beg your pardon,” said a sparrow pertly. 
“ They were asleep before our serenade began. It was 
intended to lull their slumbers. That was her desire.” 

“Doubtless,” said the crow snappishly. “Mr. 
Sparrow is always the best informed as to matters 
in the highest quarters. And, of course — consid- 
ering his world-wide fame as a songster — ” 

“No sparring — no satirical remarks, gentlemen,” 
put in a bird who had not yet spoken. It was a 
blackbird, and all listened to him with respect. “We 
should give example of nothing but peace and unity 
to these unfeathered visitors of ours, otherwise they 
might carry away a most mistaken idea of our habits 
and principles and of the happiness in which we live.” 

“ Certainly — certainly,” agreed the crow. “ It 
was but a little amiable repartee, Mr. Blackbird. 
My young friend Sparrow has not quite thrown off 
the — the slight — sharpness of tone acquired, almost 
unconsciously, by a long residence in cities.” 

“And you, my respected friend,” observed the 
sparrow, “are naturally — but we can all make allow- 
ance for each other — not altogether indisposed to 


A COMMITTEE OF BIRDS. 


145 


croak. But these are trifling matters in no way inter- 
fering with the genuine brotherliness and good feeling 
in which we all live together in this favoured land.” 

A gentle but general buzz, or twitter rather, of 
applause greeted this speech. 

“ And now to business,” said the robin. “ What 
are we to arrange for the amusement of our young 
friends ? ” 

“ A remark reached my ears — I may explain, in 
passing, that some members of my family have a 
little nest just under the eaves of the castle, and — 
and — I now and then hear snatches of conversation 

— not, of course, that we are given to eavesdropping 

— of course, none of my family could be suspected 
of such a thing — but, as I was saying, a remark 
reached my ears that our young friends would like 
to visit what, in human language, would be called our 
king’s palace — that is to say, the eyrie of the great 
eagle at the summit of the forest,” said a swallow, 
posing his awkward body ungracefully on one leg and 
looking round for approval. 

“Nothing easier,” replied the robin. “We are 
much obliged to you for the suggestion, Mr. Swallow. 
If it meets with approval in the highest quarters, I 
vote that we should cany it out.” 

Another twitter of approval greeted this speech. 

“And when shall the visit take place?” asked 
the wood-pigfeon softly, “and how shall it be accom- 
plished?” 


146 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“ As to when, that is not for us to decide,” said the 
robin. “ As to how, I should certainly think a voy- 
age through the air would be far the greatest novelty 
and amusement. And this, by laying our wings all 
together, we can easily arrange. The first thing we 
have to do is to submit the idea for approval, and 
then we can all meet together again and fix the 
details. But now I think we should be on the 
wing to regain our nests. Besides, our young friends 
will be awaking soon. It would not do for them to 
see us here assembled in such numbers. It might 
alarm them.” 

“ That is true,” said the crow. “ Their education 
in some respects has been neglected. They have not 
enjoyed the unusual advantages of Waldo and Silva. 
But still — they are very good children, in their way.” 

This last speech made Maia so angry that, forget- 
ting all pretence of being asleep, she started up to 
give the old crow a bit of her mind. 

“ You impertinent old croaker,” she began to say, 
but to her amazement there was neither crow nor 
bird of any kind to be seen ! Maia rubbed her eyes 
— was she, or had she been dreaming? No, it was 
impossible. But yet, how had all the birds got away 
so quickly, without the least flutter or bustle, and in 
less than half a second ? She turned to Rollo and 
gave him a shake. 

“ Rollo,” she said, “ do wake up, you lazy boy. 
Where have they all gone to ? ” 


CHAPTER X. 


A SAIL IN THE AIR. 

“ Bright are the regions of the air, 

And among the winds and beams 
It were delight to wander there.” 

Shelley. 

“ W hat are you talking about ? ” said Rollo, sitting 
up, and in bis turn rubbing his eyes. “ Where have 
4 who ’ gone to ? ” 

44 The birds, of course,” replied Maia. 44 You can’t 
be so stupid, Rollo, as not to have seen them.” 

44 I’ve been asleep,” said the poor boy, looking rather 
ashamed of himself. 44 What birds were they ? Did 
you see them ? I have a queer sort of feeling,” and 
he hesitated, looking at Maia as if she could explain 
it, 44 as if I had dreamt something about them — as 
if I heard some sort of music through my sleep. 
What did you see, Maia? do tell me.” 

Maia described it all to him, and he listened with 
the greatest interest. But at the end he made an 
observation which roused her indignation. 

44 1 believe you were dreaming too,” he said. 
44 Nobody ever heard of birds speaking like that.” 

“And yet you say you heard something of it 
through your sleep ? Is it likely we both dreamt the 
same thing all of ourselves ? ” 

147 


148 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“ But I didn’t dream that birds were talking,” 
objected Rollo. “ They can’t talk.” 

Maia glanced at him with supreme contempt. 

“ Can squirrels talk ? ” she said. “ W ould anybody 
believe all the things we have seen and done since 
we have been in this Christmas-tree land? Think 
of our drives in godmother’s carriage ; think of our 
finding our way through a tree’s trunk ; think of 
godmother herself, with her wonderful ways and her 
beautiful dress, and yet that she can look like a poor 
old woman! Would anybody believe all that, do 
you think? And we know it’s all true; and yet 
you can’t believe birds can talk ! Oh, you are too 
stupid.” 

Rollo smiled ; he did not seem vexed. 

“ I don’t see that all that prevents it being possible 
that you were dreaming all the same,” he said. “But 
dreams are true sometimes.” 

“ Are they ? ” said Maia, looking puzzled in her 
turn. “Well, what was the use of going on so 
about birds never talking, then ? Never mind, now ; 
just wait and see if what I’ve told you doesn’t come 
true. I shall go, Rollo ; if the birds come to fetch us 
to go to see the eagle, I shall go.” 

“ So shall I,” said Rollo coolly. “ I never had the 
slightest intention of not going. But we must go 
home now, Maia ; it’s getting late, and you know we 
were not to stay long to-day.” 

“Where’s Nanni?” said Maia. 


A SAIL IN THE AIR. 


149 


“ Perhaps the birds have flown off with her,” said 
Rollo mischievously. But for a moment or two 
neither he nor Maia could help feeling a little 
uneasy, for no Nanni was to be seen ! They called 
her and shouted to her, and at last a sort of grunt 
came in reply, which guided them to where, quite 
hidden by a little nest of brushwood, Nanni lay at 
full length, blinking her eyes as if she had not the 
slightest idea where she was. 

As soon as she saw them, up she jumped. 

“ Oh, I am so ashamed,” she cried. “ What could 
have come over me to fall asleep like that, just when 
I thought I should have got such a great piece of 
Master Polio’s stockings done ! And you have been 
looking for me, lazy girl that I am ! But I can assure 
you, Miss Maia, when I first sat down I was not here 
— I was sitting over there,” and she pointed to an- 
other tree-stump a little way off, “ not asleep at all, 
and knitting so fast. There are fairies in the wood, 
Miss Maia,” she added in a lower voice. “ I’ve 
thought it many a time, and I’m more sure than ever 
of it now. I don’t think we should come into the 
woods at all, I really don’t.” 

“We shouldn’t have anywhere to walk in, then,” 
said Rollo. “ I don’t see why you should be afraid 
of fairies, Nanni, even supposing there are any. 
They’ve never done us any harm. Now, have 
they?” 

But though she could not say they had, Nanni did 


150 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


not look liappy. She was one of those people that 
did not like anything she did not understand. Maia 
gave Rollo’s sleeve a little pull as a sign to him that 
he had better not say any more, and then they set off 
quickly walking back to the castle. 

For some days things went on as usual, though 
every morning when she got up and every evening 
when she went to bed Maia wondered if the sum- 
mons would not come soon. She went all round the 
castle, peeping up into the eaves to see if she could 
find the swallows’ nest ; but she did not succeed, and 
it was no wonder, for the solitary nest was hidden 
away in a corner where even Maia’s sharp eyes could 
not penetrate, and the swallows flew out and in 
through a hole in the parapet round the roof which 
no one suspected. 

“ I know there are swallows here,” she said to 
Rollo, “ for I’ve seen them. But I can’t fancy where 
they live.” 

“ Nanni would say they were fairies,” said Rollo, 
smiling. He was more patient than his sister, and 
he was quite sure that godmother would not forget 
them. And by degrees Maia began to follow his 
example, especially after Rollo happened to remark 
one day that he had noticed that it was always when 
they had been working the most steadily at their 
lessons, and thinking the least of holidays and treats 
that the holidays and treats came. This counsel 
Maia took to heart, and worked so well for some 


A SAIL IN THE AIR. 


151 


days that Mademoiselle Delphine and the old chap- 
lain had none bat excellent reports to give of both 
children, and Lady Venelda smiled on them so 
graciously that they felt sure her next letter to their 
father would be a most satisfactory one. 

One evening — it was the evening of a most lovely 
spring day — when Rollo and Maia had said good- 
night in the usual ceremonious way to Lady Venelda, 
they were coming slowly along the great corridor, 
white like the rest of the castle, which led to their 
own rooms, when a sound at one of the windows they 
were passing made them stop. 

“ What was that ? ” said Maia. “ It sounded like a 
great flutter of wings.” 

Rollo glanced out of the window. It was nearly 
dark, but his eyes were quick. 

“ It was wings,” he said. “ Quite a flight of birds 
have just flown off from under the roof.” 

“Ah,” said Maia, nodding her head mysteriously, 
“ I thought so. Well, Rollo, I don’t intend to go to 
sleep to-night, whether you do or not.” 

Rollo shook his head. 

“ I shall wake if there’s anything to wake for,” he 
said. “ I’m much more sure of doing that than you 
can be of keeping awake.” 

“ Why, I couldn’t go to sleep if I thought there 
was going to be anything to wake for,” said Maia. 

Before long they were both in bed. Rollo laid his 
head on the pillow without troubling himself about 


152 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


keeping awake or going to sleep. Maia, on the con- 
trary, kept her eyes as wide open as she could. It 
was a moonlight night ; the objects in the room stood 
out in sharp black shadow against the bright radi- 
ance, seeming to take queer fantastic forms which 
made her every minute start up, feeling sure that she 
saw some one or something beside her bedside. And 
every time that she found it a mistake she felt freshly 
disappointed. At last, quite tired with expecting she 
knew not what, she turned her face to the wall and 
shut her eyes. 

“ Stupid things that they all are ! ” she said to her- 
self. “Godmother, and the birds, and Waldo, and 
Silva, and the old doctor, and everybody. They’ve 
no business to promise us treats, and then never do 
anything about them. I shan’t think any more about 
it, that I won’t. I believe it’s all a pretence.” 

Which you will, I am sure, agree with me in think- 
ing not very reasonable on Maia’s part ! 

She fell asleep at last, and, as might have been ex- 
pected, much more soundly than usual. When she 
woke, it was from a deep, dreamless slumber, but 
with the feeling that for some time some one had 
been calling her, and that she had been slow of rous- 
ing herself. 

“ What is it ? ” she called out, sitting up in bed, 
and trying to wink the sleep out of her eyes. “ Who 
is there ? ” 

“ Maia ! ” a voice replied. A voice that seemed to 


A SAIL IN THE AIR. 


153 


come from a great distance, and yet to reach her as 
clearly as any sound she had ever heard in her life. 
“ Maia, are you ready ? ” 

Up sprang Maia. 

“ Godmother, is it you calling me ? ” she said. 
“ Oh, yes, it must be you ! I’ll be ready in a 
moment, godmother. If I could but find my shoes 
and stockings! Oh, dear! oh, dear! and I meant to 
keep awake all night. I’ve been expecting you such 
a long time.” 

“I know,” said the voice, quite close beside her 
this time ; “ you have been expecting me too much,” 
and, glancing round, Maia saw in the moonlight — 
right in the moonlight, looking indeed almost as if 
the bright rays came from her — a shadowy silvery 
figure, quite different from godmother as she had 
hitherto known her, but which, nevertheless, she 
knew in a moment could be no one else. Maia flung 
her arms round her and kissed her. 

“ Yes,” she said, “ now I’m quite sure it’s you and 
not a dream. No dream has cheeks so soft as yours, 
godmother, and no one else kisses like you. Your 
kisses are just like violets. But what am I to do ? 
Must I get dressed at once ? ” 

Godmother passed her hands softly round the child. 
She seemed to stroke her. 

“You are dressed,” she said. “The clothes you 
wear generally would be too heavy, so I brought some 
with me. You do not need shoes and stockings.” 


154 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


But Maia was looking at herself with too much 
surprise almost to hear what she said. “Dressed,” 
yes, indeed ! She was dressed as never before in her 
life, and though she turned herself about, and stroked 
herself like a little bird proud of its plumage, she 
could not find out of what her dress was made, nor 
what exactly was its colour. W as it velvet, or satin, 
or plush ? Was it green or blue ? 

“I know,” she cried at last joyously; “it’s the 
same stuff your red dress is made of, godmother ! 
Oh, how nice, and soft, and warm, and light all 
together it is ! I feel as if I could jump up to the 
sky.” 

“ And not be seen when you got there,” said god- 
mother. “ The colour of your dress is sky colour, - 
Maia. But when you have finished admiring your- 
self we must go — the others have been ready ever 
so long. They had not been expecting me too much, 
like you, and so they were ready all the quicker.” 

“ Do you mean Rollo ? ” said Maia. “ Rollo, and 
Silva, and W aldo ? ” 

Godmother nodded her head. 

“ I’m ready now, anyway,” said Maia. 

“ Give me your hand,” said godmother, and taking 
it she held it firm, and led Maia to the window. To 
the little girl’s surprise it was wide open. God- 
mother, still holding her hand, softly whistled — 
once, twice, three times. Then stood quietly wait- 
ing. 


A SAIL IN THE AIR. 


155 


A gentle, rustling, wafting sound became gradually 
audible. Maia remained perfectly still — holding her 
breath in her curiosity to see what was coming next. 
The sound grew nearer and louder, if one can use 
the word loud to so soft and delicate a murmur. 
Maia stretched out her head. 

“Here they are,” said godmother, and as she 
spoke, a large object, looking something like a ship 
with two great sails swimming through the air 
instead of on the sea, came in sight, and, as if steered 
by an invisible hand, came slowly up to the window 
and there stopped. 

“ What is it? ” cried Maia, not quite sure, in spite 
of godmother’s firm clasp, whether she was not a 
little frightened, for even godmother herself looked 
strangely shadowy and unreal in the moonlight, and 
the great air-boat was like nothing Maia had ever 
seen or dreamt of. Suddenly she gave a joyful 
spring, for she caught sight of what took away all 
her fear. There in the centre of the huge sails, 
seated in a sort of car, and joyfully waving their 
hands to her, were Eollo, and Silva, and Waldo. 

“Come, Maia,” they called out; “the birds have 
come to fetch us, you see. There’s a snug seat for 
you among the cushions. Come, quick.” 

How was she to come, Maia was on the point of 
asking, when she felt godmother draw her quickly 
forward. 

“ Spring, my child, and don’t be afraid,” she said, 


156 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


and Maia sprang almost without knowing it, for 
before she had time to ask or think anything about 
it, she found herself being kissed by Silva, and 
comfortably settled in her place by the boys. 

“All right — we’re off now,” Waldo called out, 
and at once, with a steady swing, the queer ship rose 
into the air. 

“But godmother,” exclaimed Maia, “where is she? 
Isn’t she coming with us ? ” 

“ I am with you, my child,” answered godmother’s 
clear, well-known voice. But where it came from 
Maia could not tell. 

“Godmother is steering us,” said Silva softly, “but 
we can’t see her. She doesn’t want us to see her. 
But she’ll take care of us.” 

“ But where are we ? ” asked Maia bewildered. 
“ What is this queer ship or balloon that we are in ? 
What makes it go ? ” 

“ Look closer, and you’ll see,” said Silva. “ Look 
at the sails.” 

And Maia looking, saw by the bright moonlight 
something stranger than any of the strange things 
she had yet seen in Christmas-tree land. The sails 
were made of an immense collection of birds all 
somehow or other holding together. Afterwards 
Silva explained to her that they were all clinging by 
their claws to a great frame, round which they were 
arranged in order according to their size, and all 
flapping their wings in perfect time, so as to have 



“ ALL RIGHT — WE’RE OFF NOW,” WALDO CALLED OUT, AND AT ONCE, WITH 

a Steady Swing, the Queer Ship rose into the Air. — p. 156. 

































A SAIL IN THE AIK. 


15 ? 


much the same effect in propelling the vessel through 
the air as the regular motion of several pairs of oars 
in rowing a boat over the sea. And gradually, as 
Maia watched and understood, a soft murmur reached 
her ears — it was the waft of the many pairs of wings 
as they all together clove the air. 

“ Oh, the dear, sweet birds ! ” she exclaimed. 
“They have planned it all themselves, I am sure. 
Oh, Silva, isn’t it lovely? Have you ever had a sail 
in the air like this before ? ” 

“Not exactly like this,” said Silva. 

“We’ve had rides in the air,” said Waldo mysteri- 
ously. 

“ Have you ? ” said Maia eagerly. “ Oh, do tell us 
about them ! ” 

But Rollo laid his hand on her arm. 

“Hush!” he said softly; “the birds are going to 
sing,” and before Maia had time to ask him how he 
knew, the song began. 

“Shut your eyes,” said Waldo; “let’s all shut our 
eyes. It sounds ever so much prettier.” 

The others followed his advice. You can imagine 
nothing more delicious than the feeling of floating — 
for it felt more like quick floating than anything else 
— swiftly through the air, with the sweet warbling 
voices all keeping perfect time together, so that even 
the queer sounds which now and then broke through 
the others — a croak from the crow, who was quite 
satisfied that he alone conducted the bass voices, or 


158 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


a sudden screech from an owl, who had difficulty in 
subduing his tones — did not seem to mar the effect 
of the whole. The children did not speak ; they did 
not feel as if they cared to do so. They held each 
others’ hands, and Maia leant her head on Silva’s 
shoulder in perfect content. It was like a beautiful 
dream. 

Gradually the music ceased, and just as it did so 
godmother’s well-known voice came clearly through 
the air. It seemed to come from above, and yet it 
sounded so near. 

“ Children,” she said , 44 we are going higher. It will 
be colder for a while, for we must hasten, to be in 
good time for the dawn. Wrap yourselves up well!” 

And as she spoke down dropped on their heads a 
great soft fleecy shawl or mantle. Softer and fleecier 
and lighter than any eider-down or lambs’ wool that 
ever was seen or felt, and warmer too, for the chil- 
dren had but to give it the tiniest pull or pat in any 
direction and there it settled itself in the most com- 
fortable way, creeping round them like the gentle 
hand of a mother covering up the little ones at night. 

44 It must be godmother who is tucking us up, 
though we can’t see her,” said Rollo. 

44 Dear godmother,” said Maia, and a sort of little 
echo was murmured all round, even the birds seem- 
ing to join in it, of 44 dear godmother.” 

It did get colder, much colder; but the well-pro- 
tected children, nestling in the cushions of their 
air-boat, did not feel it, except when inquisitive 


A SAIL IN THE AIR. 


159 


Maia poked up her sharp little nose, very quickly to 
withdraw it again. 

“ Oh, it is so freezy,” she said. 44 My nose feels as 
if it would drop off. Do rub it for me, Silva.” 

44 1 told you it would be cold,” said godmother’s 
voice again. 44 Stay where you are, Maia ; indeed, I 
think I don’t need to warn you now. A burnt child 
dreads the fire. I will tell you all when the time 
comes for you to peep out.” 

Maia felt a very little ashamed of her restlessness, 
and for the rest of the journey she was perfectly 
quiet. Especially when in a few moments the birds 
began to sing again — still more softly and sweetly 
this time, so that it seemed a kind of cradle song. 
Whether the children slept or not I cannot tell. I 
don’t think they could have told themselves ; but in 
any case they were very still for a good long while 
after the serenade had ceased. 

And then once more — clearer and more ringing 
than before — sounded godmother’s voice. 

44 Children, look out ! The dawn is breaking.” 

And as the strange air-boat slowly relaxed its 
speed, floating downwards in the direction of some 
great cliffs almost exactly underneath where it was, 
the four children sat up, throwing off the fairy mantle 
which had so well protected them, and gazed with all 
their eyes, as well they might, at the wonderful 
beauty of the sight before them. 

For they had sailed up to the eagles’ eyrie in time 
to see the sun rise ! 


CHAPTER XI. 

THE EAGLES’ EYRIE. 

“ Where, yonder, in the upper air 
The solemn eagles watch the sun.” 

Did you ever see the sun rise? I hope so; but still 
I am sure you never saw it from such a point as that 
whereon their winged conductors gently deposited 
the castle and the forest children that early summer 
morning. 

“Jump out,” said the voice they had all learnt to 
obey, when the air-boat came to a stand-still a few 
feet above the rock. And the children, who as yet 
had noticed nothing of the ground above which they 
were hovering, for their eyes were fixed on the pink 
and azure and emerald and gold, spreading out like a 
fairy kaleidoscope on the sky before them, joined 
hands and sprang fearlessly on to they knew not 
what. And as they did so, with a murmuring warble 
of farewell, the birds flapped their wings, and the air- 
boat rose swiftly into the air and disappeared from 
view. 

The four looked at each other. 

“Has godmother sailed away in it? I thought 
she was going to stay with us,” exclaimed Maia in a 
disappointed tone. 


ICO 


THE EAGLES^ EYRIE. 


161 


“ Oh, Maia,” said Silva, “ you don’t yet understand 
godmother a bit. But we must not stand here. You 
know the way, Waldo?” 

“ Here,” where they were standing, was, as I said, 
a rock, ragged and bare, though lower down, its sides 
were clothed with short thymy grass. And stretching 
behind them the children saw a beautiful expanse of 
hilly ground, beautiful though treeless, for the heather 
and bracken and gorse that covered it looked soft 
and mellow in the distance, more especially with the 
lovely light and colour just now reflected from the 
sky. 

But Waldo turned in the other direction. He 
walked a little way across the hard, bare rock, which 
he seemed to be attentively examining, till suddenly 
he stopped short, and tapped on the ground with a 
little stick he had in his hand. 

“ It must be about here,” he said. The other three 
children came close round him. 

“Here,” exclaimed Silva, and she pointed to a 
small white cross cut in the stone at their feet. 

Waldo knelt down, and pressed the spot exactly 
in the centre of the cross. Immediately a large slab 
of rock, forming a sort of door, but fitting so closely 
when shut that no one would have suspected its 
existence, opened inwards, disclosing a flight of steps. 
Waldo looked round. 

“ This is the short cut to the face of the cliff,” he 
said. “ Shall I go down first?” 


162 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“ Yes, and I next,” said Rollo, eagerly springing 
forward. 

Then followed Silva and Maia. The flight of steps 
was a short one. In a few moments they found 
themselves in a rocky passage, wide enough for them 
to walk along comfortably, one by one, and not dark, 
as light came in from little shafts cut at intervals in 
the roof. The passage twisted and turned about a 
good deal, but suddenly Waldo stopped, calling out: 

“ Here we are ! Is not this worth coming to see?” 

The passage had changed into a gallery, with the 
rock on one side only, on the other a railing, to pro- 
tect those walking along it from a possible fall ; for 
they were right on the face of an enormous cliff, far 
down at the bottom of which they could distinguish 
the tops of their old friends the firs. And far as the 
eye could reach stretched away into the distance, 
miles and miles and miles, here rising, there again 
sweeping downwards, the everlasting Christmas- 
trees ! 

The passage stopped suddenly. It ended in a 
sort of little shelf in the rock, and higher up in the 
wall, at the back of this shelf as it were, the children 
saw two large round holes cut in the rock : they were 
the windows of the eagles’ eyrie. 

Waldo went forward, and with his little stick 
tapped three times on the smooth, shining rock-wall. 
But the others, intently watching though they were, 
could not see how a door opened — whether it drew 


THE EAGLES’ EYKIE. 


163 


back inwards or rolled in sidewards. All they saw 
was that just before them, where a moment before 
there had been the rock-surface, a great arched door- 
way now invited them to enter. 

Waldo glanced round, though without speaking. 
The other three understood, and followed him through 
the doorway, which, in the same mysterious way in 
which it had opened, was now closed up behind them. 
But that it was so they hardly noticed, so delighted 
were they with what they saw before them. It was 
the prettiest room, or hall, you could imagine — the 
roof rising very high, and the light coming in through 
the two round windows of which I told you. And 
the whole — roof, walls, floor — was completely lined 
with what, at first sight, the children took for some 
most beautifully-embroidered kind of velvet. But 
velvet it was not. No embroidery ever showed the 
exquisite delicacy of tints, fading into each other like 
the softest tones of music, from the purest white 
through every silvery shade to the richest purple, or 
from deep glowing scarlet to pink paler than the 
first blush of the peach-blossom, while here and there 
rainbow wreaths shone out like stars on a glowing 
sky. It was these wreaths that told the secret. 

“Why,” exclaimed Maia, “it is all feathers ! ” 

“Yes,” said Silva, “ I had forgotten. I never was 
here before, but godmother told me about it.” 

“ And where — ? ” Maia was going on, but a sound 
interrupted her. It was that of a flutter of wings 


164 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


over their heads, and looking up the children per- 
ceived two enormous birds slowly flying downwards 
to where they stood, though whence they had come 
could not be seen. 

They alighted and stood together — their great 
wings folded, while their piercing eyes surveyed 
their guests. 

“We make you welcome,” they said at last, in a 
low soft tone which surprised the children, whose 
heads were full of the idea that eagles were fierce 
and their only voice a scream. “We have been look- 
ing for your visit, of which our birds gave us notice. 
We have ordered a collation to be prepared for you, 
and we trust you will enjoy the view.” 

Waldo, who seemed to be master of the ceremonies 
to-day, stepped forward a little in front of the others. 

“ We thank you,” he said quietly, making his best 
bow as he spoke. 

The eagle queen raised her great wing — the left 
wing — and with it pointed to a spot among the 
feather hangings where, though they had not noticed 
it, the children now saw gleaming a silver knob. 

“ Up that stair leads to the balcony overhanging 
the cliff,” she said. “There you will find our re- 
spected attendants, the falcon and the hawk, who 
have purveyed for your wants. And before you 
leave, the king and I hope to show you something 
of this part of our domains. Au revolt! — the sun 
awaits us to bid him good-morning.” 


THE EAGLES’ EYRIE. 


165 


And with a slow, majestic movement the two 
strange birds spread there wings and rose upwards, 
where, though the children’s eyes followed them 
closely, they disappeared they knew not how or 
where. 

Then Waldo turned the silver knob and opened 
a door, through which, as the eagle queen had said, 
they saw a staircase mounting straight upwards. 
It led out on to a balcony cut in the rock, but care- 
fully carpeted with moss, and with rustic seats and a 
rustic table, on which were laid out four covers 
evidently intended for the four children. Two birds, 
large, but very much smaller than the eagles, stood 
at the side, each with a table-napkin over one wing, 
which so amused the children that it was with diffi- 
culty they returned the exceedingly dignified “ rever- 
ence,” with which the hawk and the falcon greeted 
them. And they were rather glad when the two 
attendants spread their wings and flew over the edge 
of the balcony, evidently going to fetch the dishes. 

“What will they give us to eat, I wonder?” said 
Maia. “ I hope it won’t be pieces of poor little lambs, 
all raw, you know. That’s what they always tell 
you eagles eat in the natural history books.” 

“Not the eagles of this country,” said Silva. “I 
am sure you never read about them in your books. 
Our eagles are not cruel and fierce ; they would never 
eat little lambs.” 

“But they must kill lots of little birds, whether 


166 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


they eat them or not,” said Maia, “ to get all those 
quantities and quantities of feathers.” 

“ Kill the little birds ! ” cried Silva and Waldo 
both at once. “ Kill their own birds ! Maia, what 
are you thinking of? As if any creature that lives 
in Christmas-tree Land would kill any other ! Why, 
the feathers are the birds’ presents to the king and 
queen. They keep all that drop off and bring them 
once a year, and that’s been done for years and years, 
till the whole of the nest is lined with them.” « 

“ How nice ! ” replied Maia. “ I’m very glad the 
eagles are so kind. But they’re not so funny as the 
squirrels. They look so very solemn.” 

“They must be solemn,” said Waldo. “They’re 
not like the squirrels, who have nothing to do but 
jump about.” 

“ I beg your pardon,” said Rollo. “ Have you for- 
gotten that the world would stop if Mr. Bushy didn’t 
climb to the top of the tree ? ” 

“And what would happen if the eagles left off 
watching the sun?” said Waldo. 

“ I don’t know,” said Maia eagerly. “ Do tell us, 
Waldo.” 

Waldo looked at her. 

“ I don’t know either,” he said. “ Perhaps the sun 
would go to sleep, and then there would be a nice 
confusion.” 

“You’re laughing at me,” said Maia, in rather an 
offended tone. “ I don’t see how I’m to be expected 


THE EAGLES’ EYRIE. 


167 


to know everything ; if the squirrels and the eagles 
and all the creatures here are different from every- 
where else, how could I tell?” 

“ Here’s the collation ! ” exclaimed Rollo, and 
looking up, the others saw the falcon and the hawk 
flying back again, carrying between them a large 
basket, from which, when they had set it down be- 
side the table, they cleverly managed, with beaks 
and claws, to take all sorts of mysterious things, 
which they arranged upon the table. There was no 
lamb, either raw or roasted, for all the repast con- 
sisted of fruits. Fruits of every kind the children 
had ever heard of, and a great many of which they 
did not even know the names, but which were more 
delicious than you, who have never tasted them, can 
imagine. 

“ You see the eagle king and queen have no need 
to kill poor little lambs,” said Silva. And Maia 
agreed with her that no one who could get such 
fruits to eat, need ever wish for any other food. 
While she was speaking, the same soft rustle which 
they had heard before sounded overhead, and again 
the two great majestic birds alighted beside them. 
The four children started to their feet. 

“ Thank you so much for the delicious fruit, eagle 
king and eagle queen,” said Maia, who was seldom 
backward at making speeches. 

“We are glad you found it to your taste,” said the 
king. “It has come from many a far-away land — 


168 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


lands you have perhaps scarcely even dreamt of, but 
which to us seem not so strange or distant.” 

“Do you fly away so very far?” asked Maia, but 
the eagles only gleamed at her with their wonderful 
eyes, and shook their heads. 

“ It is not for us to tell what you could not under- 
stand,” said the king. “ They who can gaze undaz- 
zled on the sun must see many things.” 

Maia drew back a little. 

“ They frighten me rather,” she whispered to the 
others. “ They are so solemn and mysterious.” 

“ But that needn’t frighten you,” said Silva. 
“ Rollo isn’t frightened.” 

“ Rollo’s a boy,” replied Maia, as if that settled the 
matter. 

Waldo now pointed out some steps in the rock 
leading up still higher. 

“ The eagles want us to go up there,” he said. 
“We shall see right over the forest and ever so far.” 

And so they did, for the steps led up a long way 
till they ended on another rock-shelf right on the 
face of the cliff. From here the great fir-forests 
looked but like dark patches far below, while away, 
away in the distance stretched on one side the great 
plain across which the children had journeyed on 
their first coming to the white castle; and on the 
other the distant forms of mountain ranges, gray- 
blue, shading fainter and fainter till the clouds them- 
selves looked more real. 


THE EAGLES’ EYRIE. 


169 


It was cold, very cold, up here on the edge of 
the great bare rocks. The beauty of the sunrise 
had sobered down into the chilly freshness of an 
early summer morning; the world seemed still 
asleep, and the children shivered a little. 

“I don’t think I should like to live always as 
high up as this,” said Maia. “ It’s very lonely and 
very cold.” 

“ You would need to be dressed in feathers like 
the eagles if you did,” replied Silva ; “ and if one had 
eyes like theirs, I dare say one would never feel 
lonely. One would see so much.” 

“ I wonder,” said Maia — and then she stopped. 

“ What were you going to say ? ” asked Rollo. 

Maia’s eyes looked far over the plain as if, like the 
eagles, they would pierce the distance. 

“ It was from there we came,” she said. “ I wonder 
if it will be from there that father will come to take 
us away. Do you think that the eagles will know 
when he is coming ? do you think they will see him 
from very far off ? ” 

Silva looked over the plain without speaking, and 
into her dark eyes there crept something that was 
not in Maia’s blue ones. 

“ Maia,” exclaimed Rollo reproachfully, “ Silva is 
crying. She doesn’t like you to talk of us going 
away.” 

In an instant Maia’s arms were round Silva’s neck. 

“ Don’t cry, Silva — you mustn’t,” she said. u When 


170 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


we go away you and Waldo shall come too — we will 
ask our father, won’t we, Rollo ? ” 

“And godmother?” said Silva, smiling again. 
“ What would she say ? We are her children, Maia, 
and the children of the forest. We should not be fit 
to live as you do in the great world of men out away 
there. No; we can always love each other, and per- 
haps you and Rollo will come away out of the world 
sometimes to see us — but we must stay in our own 
country.” 

“Never mind — don’t talk about it just now,” said 
Maia. “ I wish I hadn’t said anything about father 
coming. I dare say he won’t come for a very long 
while, and when we can see you and Waldo we are 
never dull. It’s only at the castle when they give us 
such lots of lessons and everybody is so prim and so 
cross if we’re the least bit late. Oh, dear! — I was 
forgetting — shan’t we be late for breakfast this 
morning? Is godmother coming to fetch us ? ” 

“We are going home now,” said Waldo. “But 
first we must say good-bye to the eagles. Here they 
are,” for as he spoke the two royal birds came circling 
down from overhead and settled themselves on the 
very edge of the cliff, whose dizzy height they calmly 
overlooked — their gaze fixed far beyond. 

“ That is where they always stay watching,” said 
Waldo, in a low voice, and then the children went 
forward till they were but a few steps behind the 
pair. Farther it would not have been safe to go. 


THE EAGLES’ EYRIE. 


171 


“ Good-bye, king and queen,” they said all together, 
and the eagles, slowly turning round, though without 
moving from their places, answered in their grave 
voices : 

“Farewell, children. We will watch you, though 
you may not know it. Farewell.” 

Then Waldo led the others down the rock stair by 
which they had come up — down past the balcony 
where they had had their collation of fruit, till they 
found themselves in the feather-lined hall. 

“ There is something rather sad about the eagles,” 
said Maia. “ Do you think it is watching so much 
that makes them sad?” 

“ Perhaps,” said Silva. “ Come and sit down here 
in this snug corner. Look, there is a feather arm- 
chair for each of us — it is a little chilly, don’t you 
think?” 

“ Yes, perhaps it is. But tell me if you know why 
the eagles are sad.” 

“ I think they are more grave than sad,” replied 
Silva. “ I dare say watching so much does make 
them so.” 

“Why? Do they see so far? Do they see all 
sorts of things ? ” asked Maia in a rather awe-struck 
tone. “ Are they like fairies, Silva ? ” 

“I don’t-know exactly,” said Silva. “But I think 
they are very wise, and I expect they know a great 
deal.” 

“ But they can’t know as much as godmother, and 
she isn’t sad,” said Maia. 


172 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“ Sometimes she is,” said Silva. “ Besides, she has 
more to do than the eagles. They have only to 
watch — she puts things right. You’ll understand 
better some day,” she added, seeing that Maia looked 
puzzled. “ But isn’t it cold ? Oh, see there — that’s 
to wrap ourselves up in,” for just at this moment 
there flapped down on them, from no one could tell 
where, the great soft fluffy cloak or rug which had 
kept them so beautifully warm during their air- 
journey. 

“Come under the shawl,” cried Maia to the two 
boys, and all the children drew their seats close 
together and wrapped the wonderful cloak well round 
them. 

“But aren’t we going home soon?” said Maia. 
“ I’m so afraid of being late.” 

“Godmother knows all about it,” said Waldo. 
“ She’s sent us this cloak on purpose. There’s noth- 
ing to do but sit still — till she tells us what 
we’re to do. I don’t mind, for somehow I’m rather 
sleepy.” 

“ I think I am too,” said Rollo, and though Silva 
and Maia were less ready to allow it, I think they 
must have felt the same, for somehow or other two 
minutes later all the four were taking a comfortable 
nap, and knew nothing more till a soft clear voice 
whispered in their ears : 

“ Children, it is time to wake up.” 

“ Time to go home ! Are the birds coming for us 


THE EAGLES’ EYRIE. 


173 


again?” said Maia, rubbing her eyes and staring 
about her. A voice softly laughing replied to her : 

“ Birds — what birds are you talking about ? 
You’re not awake yet, Maia, and I’ve been telling 
you to wake ever so long.” 

It was Rollo. 

“You, why I thought it was godmother,” said 
Maia ; “ I heard her say , 4 Children, it is time to wake 
up,’ and I thought we were all in the feather-hall 
still. How did we get back, Rollo ? ” 

For “back” they were. Maia in her own little 
bed in the white castle, and Rollo standing beside 
her in his ordinary dress. Where were Waldo and 
Silva — where the feather-hall — where the wonder 
ful dresses in which godmother had clothed them for 
the air-journey? Maia looked up at Rollo as she 
spoke, with disappointment in her eyes. 

“We are back,” he said, “and that’s all there is to 
say about it, as far as I can see. But come, Maia, 
don’t look so unhappy. We’ve had great fun, and we 
must be very good after it to please godmother. It’s 
a lovely day, and after we’ve finished our lessons we 
can have some nice runs in the fields. Jump up — 
you’re not a bit tired, are you ? I’m not.” 

“ Nor am I,” said Maia, slowly bestirring herself. 
“ But I’m rather dull. I’m afraid we shan’t see them 
again for a good while, Rollo.” 


CHAPTER XII. 


A VISION OF CHRISTMAS TREES. 

“ The angels are abroad to-night.” 

At Christmas-tide. 

It was early summer when we saw them last. It 
is mid-winter — December — now. And winter comes 
in good earnest in the country where I have shown 
you the white castle, and told you of the doings and 
adventures of its two little guests. Many more could 
I tell you of — many a joyous summer day had they 
spent with their forest friends, many a wonderful 
dance had godmother led them, till they had got to 
know nearly as much as Waldo and Silva themselves 
of the strange happy creatures that lived in this mar- 
vellous Christmas-tree Land, and in other lands too. 
For as the days shortened again, and grew too cold 
for air-journeys and cave explorings and visits to 
many other denizens of the forest than I have space 
to tell you about, then began the season of god- 
mother’s story-tellings, which I think the children 
found as delightful as any other of her treats. Oh, the 
wonderful tales that were told round the bright little 
fire in Silva’s dainty kitchen ! Oh, the wood-fairies, 
and water-sprites, and dwarfs, and gnomes that they 
learnt about ! Oh, the lovely songs that godmother 
174 


A VISION OF CHRISTMAS TREES. 


175 


sang in that witching voice of hers — that voice like 
none other that the children had ever heard ! It was 
a true fairy-land into which she led them — a fairy- 
land where entered nothing ugly or cruel or mean or 
false, though the dwellers in it were of strange and 
fantastic shape and speech, children of the rainbow 
and the mist, unreal and yet real, like the cloud- 
castles that build themselves for us in the sky, or the 
music that weaves itself in the voice of the murmuring 
stream. 

But even to these happy times there came an end 
— and the beginning of this end began to be felt 
when the first snow fell and Christmas-tree Land was 
covered with the thick white mantle it always wore 
till the spring’s soft breath blew it off again. 

“ A storm is coming — a heavy storm is on its way, 
my darlings,” said godmother one afternoon, when 
she had been spinning some lovely stories for them 
with her invisible wheel. She had left the fireside 
and was standing by the open doorway, looking out 
at the white landscape, and as she turned round, it 
seemed to the children that her own face was whiter 
than usual — her hair certainly was so. It had lost 
the golden tinge it sometimes took, which seemed to 
make a gleam all over her features — so that at such 
times it was impossible 'to believe that godmother 
was old — and now she sedmed a very tiny little old 
woman, as small and fragile as if she herself was 
made out of a snowflake, and her face looked anxious 


176 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


and almost sad. “ A storm is on its way,” she re- 
peated ; “ you must hasten home.” 

“ But why do you look so sad, godmother dear ? ” 
said Maia. “We can get home quite safely. You 
can see to that. Nothing will ever hurt us when you 
are taking care of us.” 

“ But there are some things I cannot do,” said god- 
mother, smiling, “ or rather that I would not do if I 
could. Times and seasons pass away and come to an 
end, and it is best so. Still, it may make even me 
sad sometimes.” 

All the four pairs of eyes looked up in quick alarm. 
They felt that there was something — though what, 
they did not know — that godmother was thinking 
of in particular, and the first idea that came into their 
minds was not far from the truth. 

“ Godmother ! oh, godmother ! ” exclaimed all the 
voices together, so that they sounded like one, “you 
don’t mean that we’re not to see each other any 
more ? ” 

“Not yet, dears, not yet,” said godmother. “But 
happy times pass and sad times pass. It must be so. 
And, after all, why should one fret ? Those who love 
each other meet again as surely as the bees fly to the 
flowers.” 

“ In Heaven, godmother? Do you mean in 
Heaven ? ” asked Maia, in a low voice and with a 
look in her eyes telling that the tears were not far 
off. 


A VISION OF CHRISTMAS TREES. 


177 


Godmother smiled again. 

“Sooner than that sometimes. Do not look so 
distressed, my pretty Maia. But come now. I must 
get you home before the storm breaks. Kiss each 
other, my darlings, but it is not good-bye yet. You 
will soon be together again — sooner than you think.” 

No one ever thought of not doing — and at once 

— what godmother told them. Rollo and Maia said 
good-bye even more lovingly than usual to their dear 
Waldo and Silva, and then godmother, holding a hand 
of each, set out on their homeward journey. 

It was as she had said — the storm-spirits were in 
the air. Above the wind and the cracking of the 
branches, brittle with the frost, and the far-off cries 
of birds and other creatures on their way to shelter 
in their nests or lairs, came another sound which the 
children had heard of but never before caught with 
their own ears — a strange, indescribable sound, 
neither like the murmuring of the distant sea nor 
the growl of thunder nor the shriek of the hurricane, 
yet recalling all of these. 

“’Tis the voice of the storm,” said godmother 
softly. “ Pray to the good God, my darlings, for 
those that travel by land or sea. And now, farewell ! 

— that beaten path between the trees will bring you 
out at the castle gate, and no harm will come to you. 
Good-bye ! ” 

She lingered a little over the last word, and this 
encouraged Maia to ask a question. 


178 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


“When shall we see you again, dear godmother? 
And will yon not tell us more about why you are 
sad?” 

“It will pass with the storm, for all is for the 
best,” said godmother dreamily. “ When one joy 
passes, another comes. Remember that. And no 
true joy is ever past. Keep well within shelter, my 
children, till the storm has had its way, and then — ” 
she stopped again. 

“ Then ? What then ? Oh, do tell us,” persisted 
Maia. “ You know, dear godmother, it is very dull 
in the white castle when we mayn’t go out. Lady 
Yenelda makes them give us many more lessons to 
keep us out of mischief, she says, and we really don’t 
much mind. It’s better to do lessons than nothing. 
Oh, godmother, we would have been so miserable here 
if we hadn’t had you and Waldo and Silva!” 

Godmother stroked Maia’s sunny head and smiled 
down into her eyes. And something just then — was 
it a last ray of the setting sun hurrying off to calmer 
skies till the storm should have passed ? — lighted up 
godmother’s own face and hair with a wonderful glow. 
She looked like a beautiful young girl. 

“ Oh, how pretty you are ! ” said the children under 
their breath. But they were too used to these strange 
changes in godmother’s appearance to be as astonished 
as many would have been. 

“ Three nights from now will be the day before 
Christmas Eve,” said godmother. “ When you go to 


A VISION OF CHRISTMAS TREES. 


179 


bed look out in the snow and you will see my mes- 
senger. And remember, remember, if one joy goes, 
another comes. And no true joys are ever lost.” 

And as they listened to her words, she was gone ! 
So hand-in-hand, wondering what it all might mean, 
the children turned to the path in the snow she had 
shown them, which in a few minutes brought them 
safely home. 

Though none too soon — scarcely were they within 
shelter when the tempest began. The wind howled, 
the sleet and hail dashed down, even the growling of 
distant thunder, or what sounded like it, was heard 
— the storm-spirits had it all their own way for that 
night and the day following ; and when the second 
night came, and the turmoil seemed to have ceased, 
it had but changed its form, for the snow again began 
to fall, ever more and more heavily, till it lay so deep 
that one could hardly believe the world would ever 
again burst forth from its silent cold embrace. 

And the white castle looked white no longer. 
Amid the surrounding purity it seemed gray and 
soiled and grimly ashamed of itself. 

Three days had passed; the third night was 
coming* 

“ The snow has left off falling, and seems harden- 
ing,” Lady Venelda had said that afternoon. “If it 
continues so, the children can go out to-morrow. 
It is not good for young people to be so long de- 
prived of fresh air and exercise. But it is a hard 


180 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


winter. I only hope we shall have no more of these 
terrible storms before — but then she stopped sud- 
denly, for she was speaking to the old doctor, and 
had not noticed that Rollo and Maia were standing 
near. 

The children had seen with satisfaction that the 
snow had left off falling, for, though they had faith 
in godmother’s being able to do what no one else 
could, they did not quite see how she was to send 
them a message if the fearful weather had continued. 

“We might have looked out the whole of last 
night without seeing anything,” said Maia, “the 
snow was driving so. And if godmother means to 
take us anywhere, Rollo, it is a good thing it’s so 
fine to-night. She was afraid of our being out in 
the storm the other day, you remember.” 

“Because there was no need for it,” said Rollo. 
“ It was already time for us to be home. I’m sure 
she could prevent any storm hurting us if she really 
wanted to take us anywhere. There’s Nanni coming, 
Maia — as soon as she’s gone call me, and we’ll look 
out together.” 

Maia managed to persuade Nanni that she — Nanni, 
not Maia — was extra sleepy that evening, and had 
better go to bed without waiting to undress her. I 
am not quite sure that Nanni did go at once to bed, 
for the servants were already amusjng themselves 
with Christmas games and merriment down in the 
great kitchen, where the fireplace itself was as large 


A VISION OF CHRISTMAS TREES. 


181 


as a small room, and she naturally liked to join the 
fun. But all Maia cared about was to be left alone 
with Rollo. She called to him, and then in great 
excitement the two children drew back the window- 
curtains, and extinguishing their candles, stood hand- 
in-hand looking out to see what was going to happen. 
There was no moon visible, but it must have been 
shining all the same, faintly veiled perhaps behind a 
thin cloud, for a soft light, increased by the reflection 
of the spotless snow, gleamed over all. But there 
was nothing to be seen save the smooth white ex- 
panse, bounded at a little distance from the house by 
the trees which clothed the castle hill, whose forms 
looked strangely fantastic, half shrouded as they were 
by their white garment. 

“There is no one — nothing there,” said Maia in a 
tone of disappointment. “ She must have forgotten.” 

“ Forgotten — never ! ” said Rollo reproachfully. 
“When has godmother ever forgotten us? Wait a 
little, Maia ; you are so impatient.” 

They stood for some minutes in perfect silence. 
Suddenly a slight, very slight crackling was heard 
among the branches — so slight was it, that, had 
everything been less absolutely silent, it could not 
have been heard — and the children looked at each 
other in eager expectation. 

“ Is it Silva — or Waldo ? ” said Maia in a whisper. 
“ She said her messenger .” 

“ Hush ! ” said Rollo, warningly. 


182 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


A dainty little figure hopped into view from the 
shade of some low bushes skirting the lawn. It was 
a robin-redbreast. He stood still in the middle of 
the snow-covered lawn, his head on one side, as if in 
deep consideration. Suddenly a soft, low, but very 
peculiar whistle was heard, and the little fellow 
seemed to start, as if it were a signal he had been 
listening for, and then hopped forward unhesitat- 
ingly in the children’s direction. 

“ Did you whistle, Rollo ? ” said Maia in a whisper. 

“ No, certainly not. I was just going to ask if you 
did,” answered Rollo. 

But now the robin attracted all their attention. 
He came to a stand just in front of their window, 
and then looked up at them with the most unmistak- 
able air of invitation. 

“We’re to go with him, I’m sure we are,” said 
Maia, beginning to dance with excitement ; “ but how 
can we get to him ? All the doors downstairs will 
be closed, and it’s far too high to jump.” 

Rollo, who had been leaning out of the window 
the better to see the robin, suddenly drew his head 
in again with a puzzled expression. 

“ It’s very strange,” he said. “ I’m sure it wasn’t 
there this morning. Look, Maia, do you see the top 
of a ladder just a tiny bit at this side of the window ? 
I could get on to it quite easily.” 

“ So could I,” said Maia, after peeping out. “ It’s 
all right, Rollo. She's had it put there for us. Look 


A VISION OF CHRISTMAS TREES. 


183 


at the robin — he knows all about it. You go first, 
and when you get down call to me and tell me how 
to manage.” 

Two minutes after, Rollo’s voice called up that 
it was all right. Maia would find it quite easy if she 
came rather slowly, which she did, and to her great 
delight soon found herself beside her brother. 

Dear me, we’ve forgotten our hats and jackets,” 
she exclaimed. 44 But it’s not cold — how is that? ” 

“You haven’t forgotten your — what is it you’ve 
got on ? ” said Rollo, looking at her. 

44 And you — what have you got on ? ” said Maia in 
turn. 44 Why, we’ve both got cloaks on, something 
like the shawl we had for the air-journey, only they’re 
quite, quite white.” 

44 Like the snow — we can’t be seen. They’re as 
good as invisible cloaks,” said Rollo, laughing in glee. 

44 And they fit so neatly — they seem to have grown 
on to us,” said Maia, stroking herself. But in another 
moment, 44 Oh, Rollo ! ” she exclaimed, half delighted 
and half frightened, 44 they are growing, or we’re 
growing, or something’s growing. Up on your 
shoulders there are little wings coming, real little 
white wings — they’re getting bigger and bigger 
every minute.” 

44 And they’re growing on you too,” exclaimed Rollo. 
44 Why, in a minute or two we’ll be able to fly. In- 
deed, I think I can fly a little already,” and Rollo 
began flopping about his white wings like a newly- 


184 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


fledged and rather awkward cygnet. But in a minute 
or two Maia and he found — thanks perhaps to the 
example of the robin, who all this time was hovering 
just overhead, backwards and forwards, as if to say, 
44 do like me ” — to their great joy that they could 
manage quite well ; never, I am sure, did two little 
birds ever learn to fly so quickly ! 

All was plain-sailing now — no difficulty in follow- 
ing their faithful little guide, who flew on before, now 
and then cocking back his dear little head to see if 
the two queer white birds under his charge were 
coming on satisfactorily. I wonder in what tribe or 
genus the learned men of that country, had there 
been any to see the two strange creatures careering 
through the cold wintry air, would have classed 
them ! 

But little would they have cared. Never — oh, 
never, if I talked about it for a hundred years — 
could I give you an idea of the delightfulness of be- 
ing able to fly ! All the children’s former pleasures 
seemed as nothing to it. The drive in godmother’s 
pony-carriage, the gymnastics with the squirrels, the 
sail in the air — all seemed nothing in comparison 
with it. It was so perfectly enchanting that Maia 
did not even feel inclined to talk about it. And on, 
and on, and on they flew, till the robin stopped, 
wheeled round, and looking at them, began slowly 
to fly downwards. Rollo and Maia followed him. 
They touched the ground almost before they knew 


A VISION OF CHRISTMAS TREES. 


185 


it ; it seemed as if for a moment they melted into the 
snow which was surrounding them here, too, on all 
sides, and then as if they woke up again to find 
themselves wingless, but still with their warm white 
garments, standing at the foot of an immensely high 
tree — for they were, it was evident, at the borders 
of a great forest. 

The robin had disappeared. For an instant or two 
they remained standing still in bewilderment; per- 
haps, to tell the truth, a very little frightened, for it 
was much darker down here than it had been up in 
the air ; indeed, it appeared to them that but for the 
gleaming snow, which seemed to have a light of its 
own, it would have been quite, quite dark. 

“Rollo,” said Maia tremulously, “hold my hand 
tight ; don’t let it go. What — ” “ Are we to do ? ” 

she would have added, but a sound breaking on the 
silence made her stop short. 

A soft, far-away sound it was at first, though grad- 
ually growing clearer and nearer. It was that of 
children’s voices singing a sweet and well-known 
Christmas carol, and somehow in the refrain at the 
end of each verse it seemed to Rollo and Maia that 
they heard their own names. “ Come, come,” were 
the words that sounded the most distinctly. They 
hesitated no longer; off they ran, diving into the 
dark forest fearlessly, and though it was so dark 
they found no difficulty. As if by magic, they 
avoided every trunk and stump which might have 


186 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


hurt them, till, half out of breath, but with a strange 
brightness in their hearts, the}^ felt themselves caught 
round the necks and heartily kissed, while a burst of 
merry laughter replaced the singing, which had grad- 
ually melted away. It was Waldo and Silva of 
course ! 

“ Keep your eyes shut,” they cried. “ Still a mo- 
ment, and then you may open them.” 

“But they’re not shut,” objected the children. 

“Ah, aren’t they? Feel them,” said Waldo; and 
Rollo and Maia, lifting their hands to feel, found it 
was true. Their eyes were not only shut, but a 
slight, very fine gossamer thread seemed drawn 
across them. 

“We could not open them if we would,” they 
said; but I don’t think they minded, and they let 
Waldo and Silva draw them on still a little farther, 
till — 

“Now,” they cried, and snap went the gossamer 
thread, and the two children stood with eyes well 
open, gazing on the wonderful scene around them. 

They seemed to be standing in the centre of a 
round valley, from which the ground on every side 
sloped gradually upwards. And all about them, 
arranged in the most orderly manner, were rows and 
rows — tiers, perhaps, I should say — of Christmas 
trees — real, genuine Christmas trees of every kind 
and size. Some loaded with toys of the most mag- 
nificent kind, some simpler, some with but a few 


A VISION OF CHRISTMAS TREES. 


187 


gifts, and those of little value. But one and all bril- 
liantly lighted up with their many-coloured tapers — 
one and all with its Christmas angel at the top. 
And nothing in fairy-doll shape that Rollo and Maia 
had ever seen was so beautiful as these angels with 
their gleaming wings and sweet, joyous loving faces. 
I think, when they had a little recovered from their 
first astonishment, that the beauty of the tree-angels 
was what struck them most. 

“ Yes,” said a voice beside them, in answer to their 
unspoken thought; “yes, each tree has always its 
angel. Not always to be seen in its true beauty — 
sometimes you might think it only a poor, coarsely- 
painted little doll. But the angel is there all the 
same. Though it is only in Santa Claus’ own gar- 
den that they are to be seen to perfection.” 

“Are we in Santa Claus’ garden now, dear god- 
mother ? ” asked Maia softly. 

44 Yes, dears. He is a very old friend of mine — 
one of my oldest friends, I may say. And he allowed 
me to show you this sight. No other children have 
ever been so favoured. By this time to-morrow night 
— long before then, indeed — these thousands of trees 
will be scattered far and wide, and round each will 
be a group of the happy little faces my old friend 
loves so well.” 

“But, godmother,” said Maia practically, “won’t 
the tapers be burning down ? Isn’t it a pity to keep 
them lighted just for us ? And, oh, dear me ! how- 


188 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


ever can Santa Claus get them packed and sent off 
in time? I hope he hasn’t kept them too late to 
please us?” 

Godmother smiled. 

“Don’t trouble your little head about that,” she 
said. “ But come, have you no curiosity to know 
which is your own Christmas tree ? Among all 
these innumerable ones, is there not one for you 
too?” 

Maia and Rollo looked up in godmother’s eyes — 
they were smiling, but something in their expression 
they could not quite understand. Suddenly a kind 
of darkness fell over everything — darkness almost 
complete in comparison with the intense light of the 
million tapers that had gleamed but an instant be- 
fore — though gradually, as their eyes grew used to 
it, there gleamed out the same soft faint light as of 
veiled moonbeams, that they had remarked before. 

“ You can see now,” said godmother. “ Go straight 
on — quite straight through the trees ” — for they 
were still in the midst of the forest — “ till you 
come to what is waiting for you. But first kiss me, 
my darlings — a long kiss, for it is good-bye — and 
kiss, too, your little friends, Waldo and Silva, for in 
this world one may hope , but one can never be as sure 
as one would fain be, that good-byes are not for long.” 

Too overawed by her tone to burst into tears, as 
they were yet ready to do, the children threw them- 
selves into each other’s arms. 





A VISION OF CHRISTMAS TREES. 


189 


“We must see each other again, we must; oh, god- 
mother, say we shall ! ” cried all the four voices. 
And godmother, as she held them all together in her 
arms seemed to whisper — 

“ I hope it. Yes, I hope and think you will.” 
And then, almost without having felt that Waldo 
and Silva were gently but irresistibly drawn from 
them, Rollo and Maia found themselves again alone, 
hand-in-hand in the midst of the forest, as they had 
so often stood before. Without giving themselves 
time to realise that they had said good-bye to their 
dear little friends, off they set, as godmother had 
told them, running straight on through the trees, 
where it almost seemed by the clear though soft 
light that a little path opened before them as they 
went. Till, suddenly, for a moment the light seemed 
to fade and disappear, leaving them almost in dark- 
ness, which again was as unexpectedly dispersed by 
a wonderful brilliance, spreading and increasing, so 
that at first they were too dazzled to distinguish 
whence it came. But not for long. 

“ See, Rollo,” cried Maia ; “ see, there is our 
Christmas tree.” 

And there it was — the most beautiful they had 
yet seen — all radiant with light and glistening with 
every pretty present child-heart could desire. 

“We are only to look at it, you know,” said Maia ; 
“ it has to be packed up and sent us, of course, like 
the others. But,” she stopped short, “ who is that, 


190 


CHRISTMAS-TREE LAND. 


Rollo,” she went on, “standing just by the tree? 
Can it be Santa Claus himself come to see if it is all 
right?” 

“Santa Claus,” exclaimed a well-known voice, 
“ Santa Claus, indeed ! Is that your new name for 
me, my Maia ? ” 

Then came a cry of joy — a cry from two little 
loving hearts — a cry which rang merry echoes 
through the forest, and at which, though it woke 
up lots of little birds snugly hidden away in the 
warmest corners they could find, no one thought of 
grumbling except, I think, an old owl, who greatly 
objected to any disturbance of his nightly prome- 
nades and meditations. 

“ Papa, papa, dear papa ! ” was the cry. “ Papa, 
you have come back, to us. That was what god- 
mother meant,” they said together. And their father, 
well pleased, held them in his arms as if he would 
never again let them go. 

“ So you have learnt to know what godmother 
means — that is well,” he said. “ But kiss me once 
more only, just now, my darlings, and then you 
must go home and sleep till the morning. And keep 
it a secret that you have seen me to-night.” 

He kissed them again, and before their soft child- 
ish lips had left his face, a strange dreamy feeling 
overpowered them. Neither Rollo nor Maia knew or 
thought anything more of where they were or how 
they had come there for many hours. 


A VISION OF CHRISTMAS TREES. 


191 


And then they were awakened — Rollo first, then 
Maia — by the sound of Nanni’s delighted voice at 
their bedside. 

“Wake up, wake up,” she said, “for the most 
beautiful surprise has come to you for this happy 
Christmas Eve.” 

And even without her telling them, they knew 
what it was — they knew who was waiting for them 
downstairs, nor could all their awe of Lady Venelda 
prevent them rushing at their father and hugging 
him till he was nearly choked. But Lady Venelda, 
I must confess, was too happy herself to see her 
kinsman again to be at all vexed with them. And 
her pleasure, as well as that of the kind old doctor, 
was increased by the thanks they received for all 
their care of the children, whom their father declared 
he had never seen so bright or blooming. 

And, a few days afterwards, they went back with 
him to their own happy home ; and what then ? — 
did they ever see godmother and Waldo and Silva 
again ? I can only answer, like godmother herself, 
“ I hope so ; yes, I hope so, and think so.” But as 
to how or where — ah, that I cannot say ! 


THE END. 
















* 









— Frontispiece. 


'A ' C HFU S'TM As ' POSY 

'Bt"MR3'MOL€SWORjH 
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS' .i 
BY WALTeRCRANe: 



And co.' 

1853 ’ 






























































































































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TO 

jftflg &foo 3L t ttl e JFruntis 
JULIA AND ISABEL 
TWIN SISTERS 


London, 29th February, 1888 




A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


GRANDMOTHER DEAR’S OLD WATCH. 

A FRAGMENT. 

Part I. 

“ Those never loved 
Who dream that they ‘ loved once.’ ” 

E. B. Browning. 

“ You won’t be long anyway, dear Anntie? ” said 
Sylvia with a little sigh. “I don’t half like your 
going. Couldn’t you wait till the day after to- 
morrow ? ” 

“ Or at least take me with you,” said Molly, Syl- 
via’s younger sister, eagerly. 

Auntie hesitated — she glanced up at as much of 
the sky as could be seen through the lace-shrouded 
windows of their pretty Paris salon — it was already 
beginning to grow dusky, for though only half-past 
three, it was the thirty-first of December, and a dull 
day — and then turned with decision towards the 
door. 

“ No, dears,” she said ; “ I shall go more quickly 
alone. Sylvia’s cold would be none the better for 
l 


2 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


going out so late, and I would rather you, Molly, 
stayed with her. So good-bye, darlings ; I shall 
not be long.” 

“ I should not like to think of poor Sylvia sitting 
alone in the gloaming, to-day of all days,” said 
Auntie to herself as she made her way down the 
three flights of handsome marble stairs which led to 
their appartement. “I can see she is very sad — 
remembering how different it was this day last 
year. And dear Molly’s good spirits are an ines- 
timable blessing. Ah, my darlings, I may do my 
best, I will do my best, but I cannot make up to you 
for grandmother ; ” and with the tears in her eyes, 
and many a tender thought in her heart, Auntie 
made her way along the street. 

The two girls were watching her, though she did 
not know it. There was a tiny balcony outside the 
window on to which Molly stepped almost as soon 
as the door had closed on Auntie. 

“ Come out here for a moment, Sylvia,” she called 
to her sister ; “ we can see her as far as the corner ” 
— for the street was one of the wide handsome ave- 
nues in the new part of Paris, and there were few 
passers-by. “ As far as the corner,” therefore, it was 
easy to distinguish Auntie’s figure in its deep mourn- 
ing dress — not quite so erect or active as it used to 
be, for Auntie was no longer young, and this year, 
so nearly ended now, had brought her the greatest 
sorrow of her life — as she quickly made her way. 


GRANDMOTHER DEAR’S OLD WATCH. 


3 


“Dear Auntie,” said Sylvia; “I wish she were 
back again. I am sure we could have done without 
money for a day.” 

“ Two days it would have been,” corrected Molly ; 
“ the bank will be closed to-morrow, you know.” 

“ Of course I know that,” said Sylvia, a little 
testily. 

“And there are some people coming to be paid, 
and Auntie never likes to keep any one waiting,” 
continued Molly imperturbably. “ If Auntie had only 
taken me with her — ” 

“ How absurd you are ! ” said Sylvia. “You speak 
as if Auntie were a baby, or as if no one could take 
care of her but you — no, dear,” she broke off hastily, 
“ I should not speak like that. I don’t mean to be 
cross — but oh, Molly, how we do miss grandmother,” 
and the quickly rising tears in the pretty eyes raised 
to her sister’s face at once subdued any resentment 
Molly may have felt. She bent her tall figure — for, 
though nearly two years younger, she was taller than 
her sister — and enveloped Sylvia in a loving hug. 

“My darling,” she said — the mass of fair hair, 
which, even at eighteen, she found it no easy matter 
to keep in order, mingling with Sylvia’s soft cluster- 
ing chestnut locks ; “ my darling — of course we do 
— but, Sylvia, we must try to be happy. Think how 
she always said so. And next year — next year may 
be happier. Papa and Ralph are almost sure to be 
with us again by this time next year.” 


4 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


“ This year has certainly only brought us sorrow,” 
said Sylvia mournfully; “I wish Auntie had not 
gone out. I have a presentiment something will go 
wrong.” 

“Don’t be fanciful, dear; Auntie will soon be 
back. Come in and let us get ready a cosy tea for 
her, and finish the old year as cheerfully as we can . 
And oh, Sylvia — your cold ! — and you’ve been out 
on the balcony without even a shawl.” 

No wonder these girls loved their aunt. Since 
their infancy their grandmother and she had replaced 
to them the mother they had never known — and the 
father who was but seldom able to be with them. 
And now the grief, the inexpressible grief of having 
lost that dearest of grandmothers had deepened and 
strengthened the affection of the three for each other. 
Their life was somewhat lonely at present. Grand- 
mother had died in the south, at the pretty villa 
which, after so many years passed in it, had come to 
seem “home.” But she had wished her grand- 
children to return to England, their real home ; there, 
before long to be rejoined by their father and elder 
brother at present in the East. And they were 
spending this winter in Paris — “ on the way,” as it 
were — for the benefit of Sylvia’s drawing and Molly’s 
music ; and partly, too, perhaps, because the old home 
in the south, without “grandmother dear,” would 
have seemed too unbearably desolate. 

The curtains were drawn, the fire blazed brightly, 


GRANDMOTHER DEAR’S OLD WATCH. 


5 


the lamp on the console at the side of the room threw 
a soft pleasant glow on the dainty table set out 
temptingly for “ afternoon tea,” which, notwithstand- 
ing their long residence in France, Auntie and her 
nieces were very fond of. And with the little exer- 
tion of making all as bright and pretty as they could, 
the girls’ spirits had come back. 

“It does look nice,” said Molly approvingly, as she 
stepped back towards the door to judge of the gen- 
eral effect. “ How I do wish dear grandmother 
were here to see how neat and nice it looks. I really 
do think, Sylvia, that I am getting to be very 
4 handy,’ and to have a good deal of taste in nice 
little ways — just what grandmother used to wish 
for me ; ” and the candour and honesty in her fair 
face as she innocently expressed her little bit of self- 
approval made Sylvia turn away so that Molty 
should not see the smile of amusement it was im- 
possible altogether to repress. For Molly’s open 
satisfaction with herself when it seemed to her that 
she deserved a little encouragement, was one of the 
funniest things about her still. 

“ Yes, dear, it does look very nice,” said Sylvia. 
“ And — Can that be Auntie’s ring already ? ” she 
broke off. “ How very quick she has been.” 

And almost before she had finished the words the 
door was thrown hastily open, and Auntie was beside 
them. But what an Auntie ! Pale, looking older 
by ten years than when she had left them, breath- 


6 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


less, her lips for a moment trembling so that she 
could not speak. The girls’ warm words of welcome 
died away as they gazed at her in terror. 

“ Auntie, Auntie dearest, what is it ; oh, what is 
it ? ” they exclaimed, while visions of every possible 
and impossible misfortune — a telegram with bad 
news of papa or Ralph taking front place as the 
worst of all — rushed before their imaginations with 
the inconceivable rapidity with which such specula- 
tions picture themselves at such times of excitement. 
Auntie struggled for self-control. 

“No, no — not bad news,” she whispered at last, 
in answer to some all but inaudible breath which 
had perhaps escaped the poor children’s lips. “ You 
must — oh, you must forgive me. It was all my 
own fault. I should not have gone.” 

“ Oh Auntie, Auntie,” cried Molly, by this time in 
sobs, “ what is it then ? Have you been run over ? ” 

“ How could Auntie be here if she had been ? ” 
said Sylvia, hardly able to help smiling, even in the 
midst of her fright, at the Molly-like question. 
“ But oh, Auntie, do try to tell us.” 

Auntie was a little calmer by now. She looked 
up with a piteous expression in her still white face. 

“ My dears, my dears,” she said, “ you must not 
be vexed with me, and yet I feel that you have a 
right to be so. I have had such a misfortune — I 
have lost — just now, on my way to or from the 
bank, I don’t know which — I have lost dearest 


GRANDMOTHER DEAR’S OLD WATCH. 


7 


mother’s — your grandmother’s old watch ! And 
with it the locket that was always attached to it, you 
know — the one with her great-grandfather’s and his 
daughter’s hair.” 

“ I know,” said Molly, “ gray hair on one side and 
bright brown like Sylvia’s on the other. Oh, Auntie, 
Auntie — poor Auntie.” 

And Sylvia flung herself down beside poor Auntie 
and burst into tears of sympathy. It was sweet to 
Aunt Laura, even in the midst of her acute distress, 
to feel that their first thought was not for the loss 
itself — much as it could not but touch them — but 
of sorrow for her. 

“ Grandmother’s old watch — grandmother dear’s 
old watch,” repeated the two girls, as if they could 
not believe it. The old watch they remembered all 
their lives, whose face was almost as familiar to 
them as that of grandmother herself — the watch 
and locket which seemed almost a part of her — it 
was terrible, it was too bad to be true ! 

“ How did it happen ? ” said Sylvia, trying to 
choke down her tears. “ Tell us more, Auntie. Can 
nothing be done ? You don’t think it was stolen? ” 

“No — I feel sure I dropped it. I remember now 
that it was not securely fastened. That is what 
vexes me so terribly — to think it was my own fault ! 
Oh, Sylvia — oh, Molly, when I saw it was gone I 
felt as if I should go out of my mind ! It was just as 
I came out of the bank that I missed it, but it may 


8 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


have dropped some minutes before. I was hesitating 
as to whether I should have time to walk home, or 
if I should take a coupS so as to get back to you 
quicker, my dears — ” 

44 And we had made all so cosy for you — such a 
dear little tea — just look, Auntie ; ” and herself 
casting a glance round at their pretty preparations, 
Molly’s tears flowed afresh. 

44 I had a presentiment,” said Sylvia. “ But go on, 
Auntie.” 

“ And I looked at my watch — I mean, I was going 
to do so,” continued Auntie, “ and found it was gone. 
Of course I ran back to the bank, but it was not 
there. I rushed up and down the street and asked 
everybody I saw — I even went into some of the 
shops — I am afraid I must have seemed quite dazed. 
Then my only idea was to get back to you, so I 
called a coupe and — ” here poor Auntie broke down 
again. 

“ And is there nothing to be done ? ” repeated 
Sylvia. 

44 The coachman,” said Auntie, 44 the coachman 
advised me to go to the 4 commissaire de police ’ 
nearest to where I lost it. I have the name of the 
street. So now that I have seen you, I will go there 
at once,” and she rose as she spoke. 44 Take my bag, 
Molly dear,” she added, handing it to her. 44 The 
money is in it.” 

44 It is a good thing it wasn’t lost too,” said Molly, 


GRANDMOTHER DEAR’S OLD WATCH. 


9 


whose spirits were already beginning to reassert 
themselves. “ But, Auntie, you must have some 
tea before you go. It is quite ready.” 

Auntie, whose hand was already on the door, was 
beginning to refuse when Sylvia interrupted. “Yes, 
Auntie dear, you must” she said. “ And while you 
are taking it, it will give me time to get ready.” 

“You, my child! I will not let you come — with 
your cold too.” 

“ My cold is very little, Auntie dearest ; I must 
come — I should come,” she added pleadingly. “ You 
can’t go about by yourself, so upset as you are too. 
Grandmother told me I was to take care of you. Yes, 
Molly dear, I know you would go, but I am a year 
and nine months older,” continued Sylvia, rising to 
the dignity of her nineteen years. “ It is right I 
should go.” 

She gained the day, and so did Molly, to the extent 
of persuading her aunt to swallow a cup of tea, — 
what a different tea-taking to that they had been 
looking forward to ! — and in five minutes Auntie 
and Sylvia were driving along the streets which the 
former had but so lately passed through. 

“ Poor Molly,” said Auntie. 

“ She will be getting up her hopes and expecting 
us to bring back good news,” said Sylvia. “Well, 
we may find it, Auntie. They say honest people 
sometimes take things at once to the nearest police- 
office.” 


10 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


But this small grain of hope was quickly crushed. 
The “ commissaire de police ” was civil, but not 
encouraging. The ladies would do better to wait a 
day or two and then apply to the “ Prefecture de 
Police,” in other words the central office, where waifs 
and strays of private property, should they chance to 
fall into honest hands, were pretty sure to be event- 
ually deposited. 

“ A day or two,” repeated Auntie, appalled. “ Can 
I do nothing at once ? ” 

He shrugged his shoulders. “ That was as Madame 
chose. It would do no harm to write at once, de- 
scribing the lost articles and giving her address. 
But as for hearing of them at once, that was more 
than improbable. It was the eve of the New Year — 
the worst day of all the year on which to have such 
a misfortune ; everybody respectable was busy with 
their own affairs ; and yet there were lots of beggars 
and such like about the streets. If — even suppos- 
ing,” as if the supposition were of the wildest — “ that 
the watch had fallen into honest hands, a week or 
ten days would probably pass before Madame would 
have news of it.” 

“And if it were deposited here” said Auntie 
timidly — “ that does sometimes happen, I sup- 
pose ? ” 

“ If it were deposited here, it would be as if it 
were not here,” said the commissaire sententiously. 
“ That is to say we should send it on to the Pr^fec- 


GRANDMOTHER DEAR’S OLD WATCH. 


11 


ture. I have not even the right to tell you if it is 
at this moment here or not, though to give you 
pleasure,” he proceeded with unconscious sarcasm, 
“ I will declare to you that it is not .” 

“ Then there is no use my returning here again to 
inquire ? ” 

“Not the least — write to the Prefecture making 
your statement, and call there four or five days hence 
— no use going sooner,” said the commissaire with a 
wave of his hand in token of dismissal. So Auntie 
and Sylvia, with sinking hearts, turned sadly away. 

“ Little does he understand what four or five days 
of suspense seem to me,” said Auntie. 

“ To us too, dear Auntie,” said Sylvia, squeezing 
Auntie’s arm under her cloak as they made their way 
home through the now dark streets, Auntie prefer- 
ring to walk now that there was plainly no more to 
be done that called for haste. 

“That is the worst of it — I have made this New 
Year time still sadder than it need have been for you 
two, my darlings.” 

It was hard to go in with no good news for Molly, 
whose spirits, as Sylvia had foreseen, had already 
risen to the point of feeling sure her aunt and sister 
would return triumphant, treasure-retrove in hand! 
But even now she was not disconcerted. “ A week 
or ten days,” she repeated, when she had heard all 
there was to tell ; “ ah, that shows, Auntie dear, we 
need not give up hope for ever so long.” 


12 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


She had need of her good spirits for herself, and 
the others too, during the days that followed. It 
would be impossible and wearisome to relate all that 
Auntie did and tried to do. The letters to “ all in 
authority ” in such matters, the visits to the Prefec- 
ture de Police, to the company who took charge of 
printing and posting handbills promising rewards for 
the restoring to their owners of lost objects, to the 
famous “Mont de Piete,” the great central pawn- 
broker’s of Paris, even — For a week and more 
Auntie and the two girls, so far as it was possible for 
them to help her, did little else than exhaust them- 
selves in such efforts, seizing every suggestion held 
out by sympathising friends, from the concierge to 
their old friend the white-haired Duchesse de St. 
Gervais, who related to them a long and interesting 
but slightly irrelevant story of how a diamond ring 
of her great-grandmother’s had been found by the 
cook in the heart of a cauliflower just as she was 
about to boil it for dinner ! 

“ I really think,” said Auntie weariedly, as she 
threw herself down on the sofa after an expedition 
to the office of the most widely read Paris daily 
paper, where she had spent a small fortune in 
advertisements, “ I really think quite half the world 
is constantly employed in finding, or rather search- 
ing for, the things that the other half is as constantly 
employed in losing. I could fill a three-volumed 
novel with all I have seen in the last fe\v days — the 


GRANDMOTHER DEAR’S OLD WATCH. 


13 


strange scenes, the real tragedies of feeling — the 
truly wonderful mechanism of all this world of func- 
tionaries and offices and ^regulations. And some of 
these people have been really so kind and sympathis- 
ing — it is astonishing — one would think they would 
be too sick of it all to have any feeling left.” 

“ I am sure anybody would be sorry if they under- 
stood that it was dear, dear grandmother’s watch — 
and even if they knew nothing, any one would be 
sorry if they saw your poor dear sweet little unhappy 
face,” said Molly consolingly. 

But though her words called forth a rather wintry 
smile from Auntie and Sylvia, it was with sad hearts 
that all three went to bed on the night of the ninth 
day since the loss. 


Part II. 

Up ever so many pairs of steep winding stairs, 
somewhat later that same evening, in a small barely 
furnished little room in one of the busiest and most 
thickly inhabited parts of Paris, a young woman with 
a baby on her knees was seated in front of a small 
fire. It was cold — for, alas, in the dwellings of the 
poor want of fresh air and ventilation does not mean 
warmth — and now and then she stirred the embers, 
though carefully, as if anxious to extract what 
warmth she could without exhausting its source. 

“I must keep a little fire together for Bernard,” 


14 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


she said to herself. “ He is late this evening. Per- 
haps I had better put the little one to bed — still it is 
cold for her, for it would not yet be prudent to lay 
her beside Paul, though he is so much better. What 
a blessing he is so much better, my poor little boy ! 
One should not complain, even though it is hard to 
think of what this fortnight’s illness has cost, fifty 
francs at least, and my work in arrears. And to 
think of that watch lying there useless all this time ! 
Not that I would have Bernard sell it, even if we 
dared. But still I can understand the temptation 
were it a thing one could sell, to many even poorer 
than we. To-morrow, if there is still no advertise- 
ment in any of the papers, I really think I will no 
longer oppose Bernard’s taking it to the police, and 
giving up all hopes of any reward, and even of the 
satisfaction of knowing its real owner has got it. 
For they say lost objects sometimes lie at the Pre- 
fecture for years, and it does not look as if the person 
it belongs to was very eager to get it back, otherwise 
it would have been advertised or placarded. Per- 
haps it is some one very rich, who has many watches ; 
and yet — that old locket with the date of more 
than a hundred years ago, so simple too, evidently 
preserved as a family relic, and the watch too, old, 
though still so good, as the watchmaker next door 
assured Bernard, worth quite two or three hundred 
francs. Perhaps the owner is very distressed about 
it, but still three or four hundred francs could not 


GRANDMOTHER DEAR’S OLD WATCH. 


15 


possibly be to him or her what they would be to us 
just now! Why, even one hundred would get us 
nicely round the corner again ! ” 

For Madame Bernard was a sensible little woman 
with no exaggeration about her. But it is growing 
colder, and still her husband does not return. She 
must gather the remnants of the fire together, and 
baby at all costs must go to bed, and if Bernard does 
not soon come she herself must go too. She cannot 
risk catching a bad cold herself just as Paul is 
recovering from an attack of bronchitis. And she is 
turning to open a door leading into the one bedroom 
of their appartement, when the well-known sound 
of a latch-key in the door of the tiny vestibule 
arrests her. 

“Bernard, at last!” she exclaimed with a sigh of 
relief. 

A man, young still, though older then she, entered. 
He was thin and pale and poorly clad. But his face 
was intelligent and pleasant, and he had an un- 
doubted air of respectability. And to his wife’s 
accustomed eye, late as it was and tired as he should 
have been, his face had a flush of excitement on it 
which half prepared her for news of some kind. 

“ At last,” he repeated. “ Yes, I am very late, but 
I will not grumble as I did this evening when we 
were told we must work overhours, for it is thanks to 
the lateness that I have — prepare yourself, my girl 
— I have found the owner of the watch ! ” 


16 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


“ The owner of the watch ! ” repeated his wife. 
“How? where? But you had not the watch with 
you? You have not given it back? Not without 
— ” and the little woman hesitated ; her husband 
seemed so pleased, so excited. “ If possibly it is a 
poor person,” she reflected, “ Bernard is quite capa- 
ble of giving it back with delight for nothing but a 
word of thanks ! Yet what would not forty, nay 
even fifty francs be to us just now.” Still she did 
not like to say anything to damp his pleasure. But 
he read her misgiving — he had perhaps a little en- 
joyed teasing her ! 

“ Calm yourself, my child,” he said, though 
Madame Bernard was certainly much less excited 
than he ; “ it is all right. When I said I had found 
the owner, I meant to say I know where to find him, 
or her. Twenty minutes ago I knew as little as you 
do at this moment. But coming along the Boulevart, 
suddenly the light of a gas-lamp flaring up a little 
fell on a yellow paper on the wall — had it been in 
the daytime I should never have seen it, it was so 
badly placed — ‘fifty francs reward.’ I scarcely 
thought I would stop to read it at first ; how many 
yellow posters have I not read these last few days ! 
But in an instant ‘watch’ caught my eyes. Here 
is the description ; ” and he drew out a shabby 
pocket-book in which he had copied it word for word. 
“You see it is our old friend, and no other — ‘Eng- 
lish watch, locket, souvenir de famille , etc. Owner 


GRANDMOTHER DEAR’S OLD WATCH. 


IT 


to be found at 99 Avenue Malmaison.’ So off I go 
to No. 99 to-morrow morning as early as I possibly 
can.” 

“ And you will be very careful, Bernard,” said his 
wife. “ Give it up to no one but the owner him- 
self.” 

“ And make sure of the reward, eh, my girl ? ” said 
he, laughing. “ Yes, yes — you may trust me. I 
know fifty francs will not fall to us badly just now. 
And if it is a rich person I shall take it with a 
clear conscience, for I really have worked to find the 
owner.” 

And in very much better spirits than they had 
been since the beginning of little Paul’s illness, the 
poor young couple betook themselves to their night’s 
rest. 

One person at No. 99 Avenue Malmaison had 
not known what a good night’s rest was for some 
time. Poor Auntie ! she was beginning to feel that 
she must make an effort to resign herself, and to 
throw off the excessive depression which the loss of 
“ grandmother’s ” watch was causing her. It was not 
fair, she argued, to make Sylvia and Molly suffer for 
what she and she alone deserved to be blamed for. 
So she tried to look more cheerful than she felt. I 
don’t think her efforts deceived the two pairs of 
sympathising young eyes, but the sisters neverthe- 
less understood and appreciated them, and felt that 
they too must put on a braver face than came quite 


18 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


easy. So to all outward appearance the trio had 
recovered their usual bearing. And Sylvia and 
Molly, as was only natural, went to bed and slept 
soundly, though never without a last waking thought 
of “ Poor Auntie ! oh, if the watch could but be 
found ! ” while the watch’s owner tossed about in 
wakeful distress. The more she tried to look bright 
in the day, the more impossible it seemed to forget 
her troubles in the temporary oblivion of a sound 
sleep. 44 It is really wrong of me to fret so about the 
loss of any thing” she would say to herself. 44 I 
seem more overwhelmed than even during the first 
few terrible days after mother’s death. Though 
after all, were those first few days terrible? Just at 
the first when the door seems still as it were half- 
open, and we feel almost as if we could see a little 
way m, where our dear ones have gone — no, those 
first days are not the worst.” 

And somehow, as she said so to herself, there 
seemed to fall over Auntie a feeling of calm and 
peacefulness such as she had known little of for 
long. Then came before her the remembrance of 
“ grandmother dear’s ” sweet, quiet face as she had 
seen it the last time, in the beautiful calm of holy 
death. 44 It is wrong to fret so, my child,” the well- 
known voice seemed to say. And listening to it 
Auntie fell into a quiet and profound sleep. 

It was curious — a sort of coincidence, I suppose, 
one would call it — that this peaceful sleep came to 


GRANDMOTHER DEAR’S OLD WATCH. 


19 


poor Auntie just at the moment at which Bernard, 
on his way home, espied by the light of the flaring 
gas-lamp the yellow poster with its “fifty francs 
reward ” in big black letters ! 

When Auntie woke she saw at once by the light 
that it was much later than her usual time. But she 
felt so quiet and peaceful and rested — almost as one 
does on waking from the first real sleep after an 
illness — that she tried to fancy she was still half- 
dreaming, and that it could not yet be time to get 
up. A slight noise — a very slight noise it was — at 
the side of her bed made her at last, though reluc- 
tantly, open her eyes again and turn slightly round. 
Quick ears and watchful eyes were on the alert — 

“Oh, Auntie — Auntie dear — you are awake at 
last. You have had a nice sleep?” 

“Very — a very sweet sleep, my darling,” said 
Auntie, smiling, for the last night’s impressions were 
strong upon her. She was not going to make her- 
self unhappy any more about that which could not 
be cured. 

Molly’s bewildered eyes turned towards her sister. 

“ She looks so happy,” she whispered. “ Can she 
know, can she have heard us talking ? ” 

No — she had heard nothing — but something, some 
indefinable instinct now seemed suddenly to awaken 
her suspicions. 

“ Molly — Sylvia ! ” she exclaimed, starting up. 
“What is it? What are you saying? It cannot 


20 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


be — ” But before she had time to say more she 
was interrupted. 

“Yes, it can be — it is” they called out. And 
something, a softly shining something, round and 
smooth, with a smaller shining thing attached to it, 
dangled above her eyes. 

“The watch, Auntie — grandmother dear’s own 
old watch, and the locket! A man — such a nice 
civil poor man — found them, and has brought them 
back, while you were still asleep.” 

“ And we could not bear to waken you. You 
looked so tired and white, and were sleeping so 
quietly. But it was all right,” Molly hastened to 
assure her. “We lent the money — the fifty francs 
reward, you know — and he was so pleased, poor man. 
I am afraid he is very poor.” 

“He asked for a certificate — a little note to say 
he had been honest in bringing it back,” added 
Sylvia. “But we thought, and so did he, that it 
would be better for you to write it. So he is going 
to call again — to-morrow* or the day after in the 
evening — it is such a long way off where he lives, 
he says.” 

“What good will the certificate do him?” asked 
Auntie, stroking and smoothing her dear watch all 
the time. 

“ He said it might get him promoted in the office 
where he works,” said Molly. “ And he says the 
watch is a very good one — he took it to a friend of 


GRANDMOTHER HEARTS OLD WATCH. 21 

his who is a jeweller. So you see, Auntie, though 
he couldn’t have sold it here — you remember they 
told us it was impossible to sell jewellery that isn’t 
one’s own here, as one has to tell all about where 
one got it and all that — he might have kept it for 
himself.” 

“ Or sent it away to be sold somewhere else,” said 
Sylvia. 

“ Oh yes, no doubt he could have done something 
with it, if he hadn’t been really honest.” 

“And yet so poor,” said Auntie thoughtfully. 
Then she looked again at the watch with such a 
loving gaze that it brought tears to the girls’ eyes. 

“Oh, Auntie darling, how nice it is to see you 
looking like yourself again,” said Molly. “ It seems 
almost, doesn’t it,” she added in a lower voice, “ as 
if its coming back were a little message from grand- 
mother ? ” 

How different appeared everything that happy 
day! How bright the sunshine, even though but 
some pale wintry beams struggling through the cold 
gray sky; how nice everything they had to eat 
seemed — was it, perhaps, that the kind-hearted cook 
in her sympathy took unusual pains ? — how Auntie 
smiled, nay, laughed right out, when Molly suddenly 
checked herself in saying something about what 
o’clock it was, forgetting that it was no longer a 
painful subject ! How grateful they all felt to be 
able to go to bed in peace without the one ever- 


22 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


recurring, haunting thought, “If the watch could 
but be found ! ” 

And with the night came another thought to 
Auntie. 

“Sylvia and Molly,” she said the next morning, 
“ I have been thinking so about those poor people — 
the man who found the watch I mean — and his 
family,” for he had told them he was married and 
had children. “I do feel so grateful to him. I feel 
that I must go and see for myself if they are so very 
poor. You have the exact address?” 

“ Oh yes,” Molly replied, “ we wrote it down. 
But oh, Auntie dear, you will let us go with you.” 

Auntie hesitated a little, but yielded in the end. 

“You will promise to let me go in first,” she said, 
“just to see that it is quite respectable, and no 
infectious illness or anything that could hurt you.” 
******** 

Bernard hardly knew his little wife again when 
he got home that evening. The fifty francs had 
greatly cheered her the night before, but their in- 
fluence could not explain the state of delight between 
tears and laughter in which he found her this time. 

“ Oh, my friend — oh, Bernard,” she exclaimed, 
“ what a happy thing it was for us that you found 
the watch’s owner and took it at once ! They have 
been here ; only fancy such distinguished ladies 
coming themselves so far just to see if they could 
be of any service to us in return for ours to them. 


GRANDMOTHER DEAR’S OLD WATCH. 


23 


That was how they put it — was it not touching? 
The old lady” — poor Auntie, I don’t think she 
would quite have liked that! — “to whom belongs 
the watch, so good and kind, oh, so kind ; and the 
younger ones two angels, angels simply, I repeat it, 
Bernard. And when they heard all — I could hide 
nothing, they questioned me with such sympathy, 
about Paul’s bronchitis and all — they set to work 
to consider how best they could help us. The lady 
gave Paul, into his own little hand, another note of 
fifty francs. That will clear off everything, and 
make us quite as well off as before his illness; and 
besides that, they have a good deal of work they 
want me to do, that will be well paid, better paid 
than what I do for the shops. And they will try to 
recommend me to some of their friends, — what I 
have always wished for, to work for ladies direct 
instead of for the shops. Oh, Bernard, it was a 
happy day for us when you found that old watch ! ” 

There is no need to say that Auntie and her nieces 
were as good as their word. 

“ On the whole,” said Molly, with her customary 
philosophy, “ it was almost worth while to go through 
all the unhappiness for the sake of the delight of 
getting the watch back again, especially as it really 
has been a good thing for those nice poor people. 
But, Auntie, you will have all your dresses made 
with watch-pockets now, won’t you?” 

“ Indeed I will,” said Auntie with a smile, “ and 


24 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


thank you for your good advice, my Molly. Who 
would think you had ever been the complacent 
possessor of six pinless brooches?” 

At which Molly and Sylvia both laughed, though 
Molly blushed a little too. 

“I am really careful now, I do think,” she said. 
44 You know, dear Auntie,” she added in a lower 
voice, 44 Sylvia and I, more than ever, now , try to do 
and be all that she wished, in little as well as in big 
things. Dear, dear grandmother ! ” 


MY PINK PET. 


Chapter I. 

“ For there is no friend like a sister 
In calm or stormy weather — 

Christina Rossetti. 

It is getting to be “ a good while ago ” since I was 
a little girl. Sometimes this comes home to me quite 
distinctly : I feel that I am really growing an old 
woman, but at other times I cannot believe it. I 
have to get up and cross the room and look at myself 
in the mirror, and see with my own eyes the gray 
hairs and the wrinkles in order to convince myself 
that childhood, and maidenhood, and even middle 
age, are all left far behind. At these times “ now ” 
appears the dream, “ then ” the reality ; and, strangely 
enough, this very feeling, I am told, is one of the 
signs of real old age, of our nearing the land that at 
one time we fancied so “very far off” — farther off, 
it seems to me, in middle age than in early childhood, 
when it is easier for us to believe in what we cannot 
see, when no clouds have come between us and the 
true sky beyond. 

I have been in many countries, and lived many 
different lives, since I was a little girl. I have been 
months together at sea, when dry land itself seemed 

25 


26 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


almost to become a dream. I have been for long 
years in India, and grown so used to burning skies 
and swarthy faces that I could hardly believe in the 
reality of cool England, with its fresh fields and 
shady lanes ; yet all these scenes are growing hazy, 
while clearly, and yet more clearly, there rises before 
me the picture of my old, old home and childish 
days, of special things that happened to me then, 
of little pleasures and troubles which then seemed 
very great, and in one sense really were so, no 
doubt, for they were great to me. 

I will tell you about a trouble I once had, if you 
like. I am afraid you will hardly count it a story , 
but still some among you may find it interesting. 
For, after all, children are children even nowadays, 
when so much more is done to make them clever 
and wise than was the case when I was a little girl ; 
and the feeling that your parents and grandparents 
had their childish sorrows and joys, and hopes and 
fears and wonders, just as you have, is always a 
good and wholesome feeling to foster on both your 
side and theirs. 

Our home was in a small town in rather an out- 
of-the-way part of the country. It is out of the way 
still, I believe, as the railways have not gone very 
near it, but I know little about it now. It is many 
years since I was last there, and I do not think I 
wish ever to see it again. I would rather keep my 
memory’s picture of it unchanged. 


MY PINK PET. 


27 


Our house stood at the outskirts of the little town ; 
in front of it there stretched a wide heathery com- 
mon, which extended a mile or two into the country ; 
and over this common, at certain seasons, the west 
wind blew so strongly that it was, we used to say, 
really like living at the seaside. The sea was only 
six or eight miles away; sometimes we fancied the 
wind “ tasted salt.” 

The house itself was comfortable and old-fashioned, 
and had plenty of rooms in it, which you will allow 
to have been necessary when I tell you that I was 
the youngest of nine children, most, or at least many, 
of whom had been brought up at home. My eldest 
sister was married — she had always been married, I 
thought, for I could not remember her anything else. 
My other three sisters were all more or less grown 
up, and the only brother at all near my own age was 
away at a boarding-school. So it came to pass that, 
though I had so many brothers and sisters, I was 
rather a solitary little girl. 

But I was not an unhappy child by any means. 
I had everything I wanted, even down to a tiny 
little bedroom all to myself ; and though I was not 
perhaps indulged as much as some children I see 
nowadays, I don’t think I was on that account to 
be pitied. My parents were quiet, and perhaps 
rather unusually undemonstrative ; and indeed it 
was not then the fashion to be very familiar with 
one’s father and mother. We always said “sir ” and 


28 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


“ ma’am ” to them, and I never thought of entering 
or leaving the drawing-room without stopping to 
curtsey at the door. How would you like that, 
children ? My father was very particular about 
such matters, more so than most, perhaps, from 
having been many years in the army, where, I once 
overheard an old brother-officer say, he had been 
considered rather a “ martinet,” if you know what 
that means ; and my dear mother, who by herself, 
perhaps, would have been almost too gentle to keep 
all her family in good order, was firm as a rock where 
any wish of his was concerned. 

Till I was nearly nine years old I was exceedingly 
fond of dolls, of which I had several of different 
degrees of ugliness. But about that age I was taken 
away for a few weeks to visit an aunt of my mother’s 
at the seaside, and as we travelled all the way there 
and back in the coach, our luggage had to be much 
less in quantity than can now be comfortably stowed 
away in the van of an express train. And “Lois 
must leave her dolls at home” was the decision of 
my sixteen-year old sister Emilia, who, with my 
mother and myself, was to make the journey. 

At first I was greatly distressed, though, being a 
very quiet and uncomplaining child, I said little. 

“ Mayn’t I take one ? ” I said humbly to my 
mother. “Miss Trotter or Lady Mirabelle would 
take up so little room ; or might I carry one in my 
arms?” 


MY PINK PET. 


29 


Emilia, my sister, was desired to look over the 
dolls and report on them. She did so, but, alas ! 
most unfavourably. 

“ They are such disreputable-looking things,” she 
said half-laugliingly to my mother, “I should really 
be ashamed for my aunt to see them. She likes 
everything so neat, you know. And mother, Lois 
is really growing a great girl — don’t you think it is 
a good time to break her of dolls ? ” 

So my dolls were left behind. I don’t think I 
grieved very much over them. The excitement of 
the journey and the being considered a great girl by 
Emilia went far to console me. Besides, I had been 
beginning to find such big dolls rather inconvenient, 
as I did not care to play with them in the common 
way merely. My great pleasure was in making them 
act the different characters in some romance of my 
own concoction, and I found smaller dramatis per- 
sonce more easily managed. Of late I had even tried 
to cut out figures in paper for this purpose, but I 
could not make them anything but grotesque and 
ugly, and had for some time past been “casting 
about ” in my mind as to some less objectionable 
puppets. 

How well I remember the first night at Sandi- 
lands ! The journey I have somehow almost for- 
gotten. I suppose it was in no way very remark- 
able, and it is not unlikely that I fell asleep in the 
coach, and that this had to do with what followed. 


30 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


My great-aunt was a tiny little old lady, so tiny 
that small as I was myself she made me feel clumsy. 
Her house, too, was in proportion to herself. She 
received us with the greatest affection, but was so 
nervously anxious to make us comfortable that I 
could not but feel strange and shyer than usual. 
Notwithstanding my mother’s encouraging whispers 
and Emilia’s tugs and nods, I showed myself to sad 
disadvantage, which was especially unfortunate, as I 
was Aunt Lois’s god-daughter, and had been brought 
to see her on purpose to please her. I spilt my tea, 
I trod on the cat’s tail, I knocked over a valuable 
Indian jar filled with pot-pourri, which fortunately, 
however, was not broken, till at last, in despair, my 
mother agreed to Emilia’s repeated suggestion that I 
had better go to bed. 

And to bed I went, in considerable distress, though 
a little consoled by the kind way in which my aunt 
kissed me and patted me on the back as she said 
good-night. 

I was to sleep in a small room, generally used as a 
sort of study. My aunt had thoughtfully arranged a 
little bed in it for me, thinking the only other unused 
bedroom, which was up at the top of the house, would 
be so far away from my mother and Emilia that I 
should feel lonely. I went to bed quietly, and, not- 
withstanding the strangeness of everything about me, 
soon fell asleep. But an hour or two later, just when 
my mother and aunt were sitting comfortably chat- 


MY PINK PET. 


81 


ting, and Emilia trying over some old songs on the 
thin-toned piano, they and the two maid-servants 
in the kitchen were suddenly startled by piercing 
screams from my room. 

Upstairs they all ran — Emilia arriving the first. 

“What is the matter, Lois?” she exclaimed. 
“Have you set yourself on fire?” 

I was sitting up in bed, my eyes almost starting out 
of my head with fright. 

“ The faces, the faces ! ” I cried. “ See, Emilia, up 
there ! ” 

It was a minute or two before she could see what 
I meant, and by that time my mother and aunt and 
the servants were all in the room. Emilia would 
have scolded me, but Aunt Lois hurried forward 
and soothed me, oh, so kindly, while she explained 
that what in my half-awakened state I had taken for 
two faces were nothing but two Dutch china vases, 
standing on the top of a high old-fashioned cabinet 
in a corner of the room. The door having been 
left slightly ajar, a ray of light from the lamp on 
the landing had penetrated into the room, just 
catching the cabinet, while leaving everything else 
in darkness. 

I sobbed and cried for some time, but persisted in 
staying where I was instead of changing places with 
Emilia, as was proposed, now that I really knew 
there was nothing to be afraid of. 

“ Brave girl ! ” said my aunt approvingly. “ And 


32 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


to-morrow, for a reward, you shall have the key of 
the cabinet and examine it for yourself. It is filled 
with curious foreign shells, and if you care for them 
you shall have some to take home with you.” 

And with this delightful anticipation I fell peace- 
fully asleep. 


Chapter II. 

My aunt was as good as her word. The next 
morning, when breakfast was over, she went up with 
me to my little room and unlocked the cabinet. It 
was, as she had said, filled with lovely curious shells, 
of every size and shape. Some of the trays were in 
considerable disorder. 

“ You may put them straight for me, Lois, my 
dear,” she said, “ and when you have done so, you 
may play with them every day while you are here. 
And when you go away I shall give you a few. I 
cannot give you many, for the cabinet was arranged 
and given to me by my dear brother, who is dead, 
and I should not like to spoil the look of it. But 
before you go you may choose twenty to take away 
with you.” 

“Thank you, Aunt Lois,” I said soberly. But 
she must have seen by my face that I was pleased, 
for she added — 

“ And when I die, Lois, you shall have the cabinet 
and all the shells.” 


MY PINK PET. 


33 


“ Thank you, Aunt Lois,” I said again, not indeed 
knowing what else to say, though I felt rather un- 
comfortable when she talked of dying. 

After this, for some days to come, I was perfectly 
happy. Morning, noon, and night I was at the 
shells. The only trouble was that it was a grief to 
me ever to leave them, and of course, as I had been 
brought to Sandilands partly for the benefit of the 
sea-air, my mother could not allow me to spend all 
my time in one small room. 

One day, just after our early dinner, I had escaped 
to my treasures as usual, when Emilia followed me 
upstairs to tell me to put on my hat and cape for a 
walk by the sea-shore. My face fell, but of course I 
did not venture to make any objection. 

44 Can’t you bear to tear yourself away from your 
shells even for an hour ? ” said Emilia. “ What a 
queer child you are ! What can you find to play at 
with them ; they are all arranged with perfect order 
long ago ? ” 

44 They are so pretty. I like putting their colours 
together,” I said, fondly touching, as I spoke, the 
shells of one tray, which were my especial favourites. 

44 Yes, they are pretty,” said Emilia. 44 How lovely 
that delicate pink one is, in the middle of those dark- 
brown tortoiseshell-looking ones ! It is like a prin- 
cess surrounded by her slaves.” 

I started with pleasure. Emilia’s suggestion 
opened a new world to me. Here before me, in 


34 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


my shells, were the very puppets I had been in 
search of ! 

“ Oh, Emilia ! ” I exclaimed, “ what a good idea ! ” 

But when she questioned me as to what I meant, 
I got shy again, and refused to explain. I was afraid 
of her laughing at me, and hurried away to put on 
my hat, more eager than ever to get back to these 
delightful playfellows, as I really considered them. 

And what games did I not have with them! I 
made them act far more wonderful dramas than I 
could possibly describe to you, children. I went 
through ever so many of the Arabian Nights stories, 
with the shells for caliphs and weseers, genii, and 
enchanted damsels. I acted all the well-known old 
fairy tales, as well (or better) known in my childish 
days as now : Cinderella and dear Beauty and the 
Riquet with the tuft. There was one brown shell 
with a little hump on its back which did splendidly 
for Riquet. Then for a change to more sober life 
I dramatised The Fairchild Family and Jemima 
Placid , taking for my model a little book of plays 
for children, whose name, if I mistake not, was 
Leisure Hours. 

But through all my fanciful transmogrifications I 
was constant in one particular: the beautiful pale- 
rose-coloured shell which Emilia had admired was 
ever my prima donna and special favourite. It — I 
very nearly had said “ she ” — was in turn the lovely 
wife of Hassan of Balsora, Princess Graciosa, and 


MY PINK PET. 


35 


Lucy Faircliild, whom, on mature consideration, I 
preferred to her sister Emily, as, though not so 
pretty, she was never guilty of such disgraceful con- 
duct as eating “ plum jam ” on the sly and then deny- 
ing it ! And when no special “ actings ” were on 
hand, and my beautiful shell might have been sup- 
posed to be nothing but a shell, the pleasures of my 
fertile imagination were by no means at an end. 
The pretty thing then became a sort of beloved friend 
to me. I talked to it, and imagined it talked to me ; 
I confided to it all my hopes and fears and disap- 
pointments, and believed, or pretended to myself to 
believe rather, that the shell murmured to me in 
reply sweet whispers of affection and sympathy; I 
carried it about with me everywhere, in a tiny box 
lined with tissue-paper and cotton-wool; indeed it 
seems to me now that many, perhaps most people, if 
they had heard what nurses call “my goings-on,” 
would have thought my wits decidedly wanting. 
But of course I told no one of my new fancy. I 
don’t think at that time I could have done so. I 
lived in a happy dream-world of my own alone with 
“ my pink pet,” for that was the only “ real ” name 
I ever gave to the shell, and no longer in the least 
regretted Miss Trotter or Lady Mirabelle, though I 
often “ amused ” my present favourite with stories of 
the sayings and doings of its predecessors in my 
affections. 

Of course my pink pet accompanied me home. 


36 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


There was great consultation with my shell as to the 
nineteen others to be chosen, and there was one 
moment’s breathless suspense when my aunt told me 
to show her my selection, and I gravely did so, watch- 
ing her face the while. 

What if she should refuse to me the gift of the one, 
for which I would gladly have gone without all the 
others ? 

“ You have made a very modest choice, Lois,” she 
said at last. “ Are you sure you wouldn’t like any 
others better? These are rather rare shells,” she 
added, touching a little group of two or three that 
generally figured as my pink pet’s maids of honour, 
“ but these, and this, and this — are common 
enough.” 

“ But this is the only one of the sort in the 
cabinet,” I replied, reddening with vexation, for my 
favourite had been one of those Aunt Lois had 
described as “ common.” Actually, at the risk of 
losing my beautiful shell, I could not help standing 
up in its defence. 

“ Why, that’s the one I thought so pretty, isn’t 
it ? ” said Emilia, coming forward. “ Lois thinks it 
worth its weight in gold, aunt. She keeps it in an 
old pill-box, and — ” 

“ You’re very unkind, Emilia,” I exclaimed angrily; 
“ you’ve no business to pry into what I do.” 

“ Hush — hush ! my dear,” said Aunt Lois in her 
fussy way, yet not unkindly, and looking at me with 


MY PINK PET. 


87 


some curiosity. “ Give me my spectacles, and let 
me see this remarkable shell better. Yes — you are 
right, your young eyes are sharper than mine, it is a 
rare shell. I think there were only two of them in 
the cabinet, and one must have been broken, though 
I did not know it.” 

Oh, how I trembled ! Supposing Aunt Lois were 
to say she could not spare this one precious speci- 
men ! Emilia put my thoughts into words for me, 
for which I did not thank her. 

“ If it is the only one,” she said, “ of course Lois 
won’t expect you to give it to her.” She glanced at 
me reproachfully. My eyes fell, but I did not speak. 

“I would not on any account go back from my 
promise,” said my aunt. “ If the child has a special 
fancy for the shell, let her have it by all means, even 
were it far more valuable than it is.” 

I could hardly speak, so great had been my sus- 
pense, but I whispered “ Thank you, Aunt Lois,” 
in a husky voice, and I fancy by the way my aunt 
again looked at me that she saw there were tears in 
my eyes. And the next day we went home. 


Chapter III. 

After this I grew fonder than ever of my pink 
pet. But at the same time I was more careful than 
before to let no one know of my queer fancy. 


38 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


Emilia’s remarks had alarmed me, for I had had no 
idea that she had noticed my treasure. I could not 
bear being laughed at, and I intensely dreaded my 
brothers getting hold of the story and playing me 
some trick which might deprive me of my favourite. 
I never played with my shells except when I was 
quite alone, and deeply regretted there being no key 
to the lock of my room, by which I might have 
secured myself against intruders. But as I had 
always been in the habit of playing a great deal by 
myself, and had always, too, been quiet and reserved, 
no one took any special notice of me or my occu- 
pations, particularly as every one in the house was 
just then much occupied with preparations for the 
approaching marriage of my second sister, Margaret. 
So I spent hours and hours by myself — or rather 
not by myself, for I had for my companions far more 
wonderful beings than were ever dreamt of anywhere 
save in a child’s brain, and with my pink pet went 
through more marvellous adventures by far than 
Munchausen himself. 

One day I was playing as usual in my own little 
room, when the door suddenly opened and Emilia 
and Margaret came in. They were both laughing. 
I started up in terror and threw my handkerchief 
over the little group of shells, who had just been 
performing a tournament on a cane-bottomed chair, 
on the seat of which, with an old piece of French 
chalk, I had marked out the lists, the places for 









MY PINK PET. 


39 


spectators, and the da'is of honour for the queen, 
represented of course by my rose-coloured shell. 

“ What are you doing, Lois ? ” said Emilia. 

44 Nothing, at least only playing,” I said con- 
fusedly. 

“ W e didn’t suppose you were doing anything 
naughty,” said Margaret. “Don’t look so fright- 
ened. Let us see what you are playing at.” 

I hesitated. 

44 Come now,” said Emilia laughingly, 44 do let us 
have it. You had got as far as — let me see what 
was it, 4 Oh ladye fair, I kneel before thee,’ wasn’t 
that it, Margaret ? ” 

I turned upon her in sudden fury. But before I 
could speak, Emilia, not noticing my excitement, 
had snatched away the handkerchief from the chair, 
and with mischievous glee picked out my pink pet. 

44 See, Margaret,” she cried, 44 this is the 4 ladye 
'fair,’ Lois’s familiar.” 

I had found my voice by now — found it indeed ; 
it would have been better had I remained silent. 

44 Oh, you mean girl ! ” I exclaimed. 44 Oh, you 
bad, wicked sister ! You’ve been listening at the 
door; am I not even to be allowed the privacy of 
my own chamber ? ” I was growing dramatic in my 
excitement, and unconsciously using the language of 
some of my persecuted heroines. 

44 Lois,” cried Margaret, 44 do not excite yourself 
so. We did not listen at the door, but you were 


40 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


speaking so loud, I assure you it was impossible not 
to hear you.” 

Somewhat softened and yet inexpressibly annoyed, 
I turned to Margaret, unfortunately in time to see 
that it was only by the greatest efforts she was con- 
trolling her laughter. My words and manner had 
been too much for her, anxious as she was to quell 
the storm. 

“ I will bear no more,” I said passionately. “ Un- 
natural sisters that you are to jeer and mock at me. 
Give me my shell, Emilia. How dare you touch it ? ” 

Startled, and really a little frightened by my 
manner, Emilia silently held out the shell. I 
snatched at it, how it was I never could tell — 
whether she or I dropped it I know not, nor do I 
know whose foot trod on it, but so it was. In the 
scuffle my treasure fell to the ground ; my pink pet 
was crushed into a little heap of shell dust. 

“ Oh, Lois, dear Lois, I am so sorry,” exclaimed 
Emilia, all her mischief and glee at an end. But I 
did not speak. For a moment I stared at the fatal 
spot on the floor, then stooping down I scooped up 
as well as I could the fragments of what had been 
so dear to me, and hiding them in my hand rushed 
from the room, still without speaking. I really 
hardly knew what I was doing ; afterwards I re- 
membered hearing Emilia say in a frightened tone — 

“ Margaret, what can we do ? I never saw Lois 
like that before. Can she be going out of her mind ? ” 


MY PINK PET. 


41 


I thought I was going out of my mind. Even 
now, children, old woman as I am, I cannot bear 
to recall the misery of that time. I ran out into 
the garden, and lay with my face hidden in an old 
deserted arbour, where I trusted no one would come 
to seek me. I had put the “ ashes ” of my favourite 
into the pill-box, and held it in my hands while I 
cried and sobbed with mingled anger and grief. The 
afternoon went by, but no one came to look for me. 

“It must be nearly tea-time,” I said to myself, 
though reluctant to own that I was hungry. “No 
one cares what becomes of me.” 

Just then I heard a step approaching. It was 
Emilia. 

“ Oh, Lois ! ” she exclaimed ; and I could tell by 
her voice that she had been crying. “ I have been 
looking everywhere for you. Oh, dear Lois, do say 
you forgive me ? ” 

“No,” I said sullenly, turning from her and push- 
ing away her outstretched arms, “ I will never forgive 
you.” 

And this was my only reply to her repeated words 
of sorrow and affection, till at last in despair she 
went away. Then, knowing that my retreat was 
discovered, I got up and went into the house, up 
to my own room. I sent down word by one of the 
servants that my head ached, and I did not want 
any tea, and my mother, judging it wiser from my 
sisters’ account of me not to drive matters to ex- 


42 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


tremity, let me have my own way. She came up 
to see me, and said quietly that she hoped my head 
would be better to-morrow, but that was all, and I 
encouraged nothing more, and when Emilia came 
to my door to say good-night, I would not answer 
her. 

The next day things were no better. By this 
time my continued crying had really made my head 
ache more badly than it had ever ached before. I 
got up and dressed, but had to lie down again, and 
thus I spent the day ; and when my sisters came in 
to see me I would not speak to them. Never, I 
think, was child more perfectly miserable ; and 
though I gave little thought to that part of the 
matter, I can now see that I must have made the 
whole household wretched. And yet by this time I 
was doing myself the greatest injustice. I was no 
longer angry with Emilia. I was simply sunk in 
grief. My pink pet was crushed into dust ; how it 
had happened, or who was to blame, I did not care. 
I was just broken-hearted. 

I think it must have been the evening of the 
second day after the tragedy of the shell that I was 
sitting alone in my little room, when there came a 
tap at the door. “ Come in,” I said listlessly, never 
for a moment supposing it to be any one but the 
housemaid. The door opened and I glanced up. 
My visitor was Aunt Lois. I had forgotten all 
about her coming, though I now remembered hear- 


MY PINK PET. 


43 


ing that she was expected a week or two before 
Margaret’s marriage. 

“ Aunt Lois ! ” I exclaimed, starting up, but when 
I felt her bright kindly eyes looking at me inquir- 
ingly, I grew red and turned away; but she came 
forward all the more eagerly. 

“ So my poor little girl,” she said, “ I hear you 
have been in great trouble.” 

I did not speak — I began to cry quietly. 

“And some one else has been in trouble too,” she 
said ; “ you have made Emilia very unhappy.” 

I raised my head in surprise. “ Emilia ! ” I re- 
peated; “she doesn’t care. She only laughed at 
me.” 

“She does care, Lois,” said my aunt. “She has 
tried to tell you so several times.” 

“Yes,” I said confusedly, “she did; but I didn’t 
think anybody cared really .” 

“No, you have been thinking of no one but your- 
self, Lois ; that is the truth, dear. But now listen 
to me, and don’t think I am going to laugh at you. 
I understand how you have been feeling. Once, 
when I was a little girl, I was very nearly as miser- 
able about the loss of a — guess now — what do you 
think?” 

I looked up with interest. 

“I don’t know,” I said; “was it a pet bird, or 
something like that?” 

“ No,” replied Aunt Lois, “ nothing half so sensible. 


44 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


I don’t think you could guess. It was nothing but 
a little sugar mouse, which I had had for some 
weeks, till at last one day, forgetting that it was 
only sugar, I left it so close to the fire that it melted. 
But many times in my life I have thought of my 
poor mouse with gratitude, Lois. It taught me some 
good lessons. Can you guess what they were ? ” 

“Not to care too much for things, I suppose,” I 
said. 

“ Not exactly that. I don’t think 4 caring ’ ever 
does us harm; but what one cares for, that is the 
thing. You will understand in good time.” 

I looked up again, thoughtfully this time. 

44 I think I do understand, a little,” I said. 44 You 
are so kind, Aunt Lois.” 

44 1 don’t like to see people unhappy if I can cheer 
them,” she said. 44 Do you, Lois ? ” 

I did not reply. 

44 Shall I call Emilia?” she said. “You can make 
her happy again.” 

44 Please,” I whispered. 

Aunt Lois went to the door, and I heard her call 
my sister. She must have been waiting somewhere 
near, for in a moment she was in the room. She 
ran up to me and put her arms round me and kissed 
me fondly — more fondly I think than ever any one 
had kissed me before. 

44 Dear little Lois,” she said, 44 1 have been so sorry 
about you. Won’t you forgive me? And I have 


MY PINK PET. 


45 


not been a good sister to you — I have left you alone 
to make amusement for yourself when I might have 
helped you. Aunt Lois has shown me it all, and I 
want to begin now quite differently, so that you 
shall never feel lonely again.” 

I kissed her in return. Who could have helped 
doing so? There were tears in her eyes — those 
merry bright eyes that I had never before seen 
looking sad ; and it seemed to me that all of a 
sudden I found out how sweet and pretty Emilia 
was. 

“ Dear Emilia,” I said, and then touching a little 
knot of pale-rose-coloured ribbon that she happened 
to be wearing, and which seemed just to match the 
pretty flush in her cheeks, I whispered very low, 
“ Will you be my pink pet, Emilia? ” 

She laughed happily. “That reminds me,” she 
said, and out of her pocket she drew a tiny box, 
which she gave me. I opened it, and gave a little 
cry of surprise. There, in a nest of cotton-wool, there 
lay before me, lovely as ever, my beloved shell ! 

“Emilia!” I exclaimed, “where did you get it? 
It was broken to bits.” 

“I brought it,” said Aunt Lois. “Don’t you 
remember my saying there had once been two of 
those rare shells ? Emilia wrote to ask me to hunt 
all through the cabinet to see if possibly the other 
was still there ; and I actually did find it. It was 
hidden in a very large shell, that somehow or other 


46 


A CHKISTMAS POSY. 


it had got into — one of the large shells you seldom 
played with.” 

“ How kind of you, and of Emilia,” I said. Then 
I looked at the shell again. “I should like to keep 
it always ,” I said, “ but I won’t make a pink pet of 
it.” 

And I always did keep it. It lies now in a corner 
of my trinket-case, where it has lain for many years, 
and where little fingers have often reverently touched 
it, when I told them it was a keepsake from the dear, 
merry Aunt Emilia their young eyes had never seen 
— sister and dearest of friends while she lived, most 
precious of memories when she died. For she died 
many years ago ; but before many years more have 
passed, I smile to think that God will let us be again 
together, and this is one of the thoughts that makes 
me not regret to feel that I am really growing into 
quite an old woman. 


AN HONEST LITTLE MAN. 


Our Baby is very fond of coming down to dessert. 
I almost think it is the greatest pleasure in his small 
life, especially as it is not one that very often 
happens, for, of course, as a rule, he has to go to bed 
before father and mother begin dinner, and dessert 
comes at the end of all, even after grace, which I 
have often wondered at. Our Baby is four ; he has 
rather red hair, and merry-sad eyes, if you know 
what I mean ; and in summer, because his skin is so 
very fair — 44 quite lost on a boy,” nurse says — he 
has a great many freckles, especially on his dear 
little nose. He is a great pet, of course, but not in 
a very babyish way — he seems too sensible for that ; 
and he is very gentle and thoughtful, but not at all 
“soft” or cowardly. Our Baby has a brother — he is 
really, of course, brother to us all ; but Baby seems 
to think he is only 44 budder ” to him — a very big, 
almost grown-up brother, Baby considers him, for 
he is nearly seven! Well, one evening lately both 
these little boys came down to dessert for a great 
treat, because an auntie had come on a visit, and this 
was the first night. They were both so pleased. 
44 Brother ” was chattering and laughing in what we 


47 


48 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


call his “big man way,” and Baby smiling soberly. 
That is his way when he is pleased, and that reminds 
me how we did laugh the first night he ever came 
down ! He was so dreadfully solemn and quiet we 
thought he was going to cry, and father said, “ That 
child had better go to bed, he looks so miserable ; ” 
but when I asked him if he would like to go up, 
he looked at me and smiled, and said, “ Oh no, 
Cissy. He’s very happy ; ” and then we saw he 
really was, only he thought looking solemn was 
the best of good manners, for afterwards he told 
“ Brother ” he thought “ gemplemens and ladies 
never laughed at dinner ! ” But he was more at 
home this evening that Auntie had come, and though 
he did not make any noise, any one could see he was 
happy. He was sitting by Auntie, who was very 
pleased with him, and without any one happening to 
notice, she took a cocoa-nut biscuit from a plate in 
front of her and gave it to him. He took it quietly, 
but did not eat it, for he saw that “ Budder” had not 
got one, and though our little boys are not the least 
jealous of each other, they are very fond of being 
what they call “ egwall,” and if one gets anything, 
he likes the other to get the same. 

Auntie went on speaking, and did not see that 
Baby did not eat his biscuit, but held it tight in his 
little hand. And in a minute or two mother looked 
round and said, “ I must find something my little boys 
will like.” Then she drew the cocoa-nut biscuits to 




























































































































AN HONEST LITTLE MAN. 


49 


her and chose two, a pink one and a white one — you 
must know there is nothing we children think such 
a treat as cocoa-nut biscuits — and handed them to 
them. 

“ Budder ” took his and said, “ Thank you, 
mother ; ” but what do you think dear Baby did ? 
Instead of taking it, as he might easily have done, 
without any one’s ever knowing of the other — and, 
indeed, if they had known, they couldn’t have said it 
was naughty of him — he held out his hand with the 
biscuit already in it, and said quite simply, not the 
least as if he thought he was doing anything very 
good, “ Him has one, zank you.” 

“ Honest little man,” said mother, and then Baby’s 
face got red, and he did look pleased. For mother 
does not praise us often, but when she does it is for 
something to be a little proud of, you see, and even 
Baby understands that. 

And Auntie turned and gave him a kiss. 

u You dear little fellow,” she said; and then in a 
minute, she added, “that reminds me of something I 
came across the other day.” 

“ What was it? Oh, do tell us, Auntie,” we all 
cried. 

Auntie smiled — we are always on the look-out for 
stories, and she knows that. 

“It was nothing much, dears,” she said, “nothing 
I could make a story of, but it was pretty, and it 
touched me.” 


50 


A CHRISTMAS POSY". 


“Was it a bear,” said Baby, “or a woof that 
touched you?” 

“Silly boy,” said “ Budder ” ; “how could it be 
a bear or a woof? Auntie said it was something 
pretty.” 

And when she had left off laughing, she told us. 

“ It was the other day,” she said, “ I was walking 
along one of the principal streets of Edinburgh, 
thinking to myself how bitterly cold it was for May. 
Spring has been late everywhere this year, but down 
here in the South, though you may think you have 
had something to complain of, you can have no idea 
how cold we have had it ; and the long light days 
seem to make it worse somehow! Well, I was walk- 
ing along quietly, when I caught sight of a poor 
little boy hopping across the road. I say 1 hopping,’ 
because it gives you the best idea of the queer way 
he got along, for he was terribly crippled, and his 
only way of moving was by something between a 
jerk and a hop on his crutches. And yet he man- 
aged to come so quickly ! You would really have 
been amused to see the kind of fly he came with, and 
how cleverly he dodged and darted in and out of the 
cabs and carriages, for it was the busiest time of the 
day. And fancy, children, his poor little legs and 
feet from his knees were quite bare. That is not a 
very unusual sight in Edinburgh, and not by any 
means at all times one to call forth pity. Indeed, I 
know one merry family of boys and girls who all 


AN HONEST LITTLE MAN. 


51 


make a point of ‘ casting ’ shoes and stockings when 
they get to the country in summer, and declare they 
are much happier without. Their father and mother 
should be so, anyway, considering the saving in 
hosiers’ and shoemakers’ bills. But in the case of 
my poor little cripple it was pitiful ; for the weather 
was so cold, and the thin legs and feet so red, and 
the poor twisted-up one looked so specially unhappy. 

44 4 Poor little boy,’ I exclaimed to the lady I was 
with; “just look at him. Why he has hopped all 
across the street merely for the pleasure of looking 
at the nice things in that window ! ’ 

“ For by this time the boy was staring in with all 
his eyes at the confectioner’s close to where we were 
passing. 

“ 4 Give him a penny, do,’ said my friend, 4 or go 
into the shop and buy him something.’ 

44 We went close up to the boy, and I touched him 
on the shoulder. He looked up — such a pretty, 
happy face he had — and I said to him — 

44 4 Well, my man, which shall I give you, a penny 
or a cookie ? ’ 

44 He smiled brightly, but you would never guess 
what he answered. Like our ‘honest little man’ 
here,” and Auntie patted Baby’s head as she spoke, 
44 he held out his hand — not a dirty hand ‘consider- 
ing ’ — and said cheerfully — 

44 4 Plenty to buy some wi’, thank ye, mem ; ’ and 
spying into his hand I saw, children, one halfpenny.” 


52 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


Auntie stopped. I think there were tears in her 
eyes. 

“ And what did you do, Auntie ? ” we all cried. 

“What could I have done but what I. did?” she 
said. “I don’t know if it would have been better 
not — better to let his simple honesty be its own 
reward. I could not resist it; of course I gave him 
another penny ! He thanked me again quite simply ; 
I am sure it never struck him that he had done any- 
thing to be praised for, and I didn’t praise him, I 
just gave him the penny. And oh, how his bright 
eyes gleamed ! He looked now as if he thought he 
had wealth enough at his command to buy all the 
cookies in the shop.” 

“ So he hadn’t only been pertending to buy,” said 
“Budder.” “Poor little boy, he had been toosing — 
toosing what he would buy. I’m so glad you gave 
him anoder penny, Auntie.” 

“ He’s so gad him got anoder penny,” echoed 
Baby ; though, to tell the truth, I am not sure that 
he had been listening to the story. He had been 
making up for lost time by crunching away at his 
biscuit. And when the boys said “ Good-night,” 
Auntie gave them each another biscuit, and mother 
smiled and said it was because it was Auntie’s first 
night. But “Budder” told Baby afterwards, by 
some funny reasoning of his own, that they had got 
another biscuit each, “ ’cos of that poor little boy who 
wasn’t greedy.” 


AN HONEST LITTLE MAN. 


53 


And Baby, of course, was quite satisfied, as 
44 Budder ” said so. 

I think I shall always remember that little cripple 
boy when I see cocoa-nut cakes, and it will make me 
like them, if possible, better than ever. 


THE SIX POOR LITTLE PRINCESSES. 


“ And all the Christ Child’s other gifts . . . 

. . . but still — but still — 

The doll seem’d all my waking thoughts to fill. ...” 

The Doll that ne’er was Mine. 

There were six of them, beginning with Helen 
and ending with Baby, and as Helen was only twelve 
and Baby already five, it is easy to understand that 
they were all pretty near of a size. But they weren’t 
really princesses. That was all Jinny’s planning. 
Indeed most things which were nice or amusing or 
at all “ out-of-the-way ” were Jinny’s planning. 

Jinny’s long name was Ginevra. She came third. 
Helen and Agatha were in front of her, and below 
her came Elspeth and Belinda and Baby. Baby had 
a proper name, I suppose, but I never heard it, and 
so I can’t tell you what it was. And as no one ever 
did hear it, I don’t see that it much matters. Nor 
would it have mattered much if Belinda had had no 
proper name either, for she was never called anything 
but Butter-ball. The story was that it was because 
she was so fat ; and as, like many fat people, she was 
very good-natured, she did not mind. 

They were all together in the nursery, together 
54 


THE SIX POOR LITTLE PRINCESSES. 


55 


but alone, as was rather often the case ; for they 
had no kind, comfortable old nurse to spoil and scold 
them by turns, poor children, only a girl that Miss 
Burton, the lady whom they lived with, kept “to do 
the nursery work,” which does not sound like being 
a nice nurse at all, though I suppose Miss Burton 
did not understand the difference. There were a 
good many things she did not understand. She liked 
the children to be neatly dressed, and to have good 
plain food in plenty; she was very particular that 
they should do their lessons and go for a walk every 
day when it was fine enough, but that was about all 
she thought of. She did not think they needed any 
fun except what they could make for themselves, 
and even then it must not be too noisy; she could 
not understand that they could possibly be “dull,” 
caged up in their nursery. “ Dull,” when there were 
six of them to play together! She would have 
laughed at the idea. 

They had few story-books and fewer toys. So 
they had to invent stories for themselves, and as for 
the toys, to make believe very much indeed. But 
how they would have succeeded in either had it not 
been for Jinny I should be afraid to say. 

“It’s a shame — a regular shame,” said Ginevra. 
She was sitting on the table in the middle of the 
room with Elspeth beside her. The two little ones 
were cross-legged on the floor, very disconsolately 
nursing the battered remains of two very hideous 


56 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


old dolls, who in their best days could never have 
been anything but coarse and common, and Helen 
and Agatha sat together on a chair with a book in 
their hands, which, however, they were not reading. 
“ It’s a shame,” Ginevra repeated ; “ even the little 
princes in the tower had toys to play with.” 

“ Had they ? ” said Helen. “ Is that in the history, 
Jinny? ” 

“ It’s in some history ; anyway, I’m sure I’ve heard 
it,” Jinny replied. 

“ But this isn’t a tower,” said Agatha. 

“No, it’s a dungeon,” replied Ginevra grimly. 
“ And if any of you besides me had the spirit of a 
true princess, you wouldn’t stand it.” 

“We don’t want to stand it any more than you do,” 
Helen said quietly. “ But what are we to do? You 
don’t want to run away, do you? Where could we 
run to ? It isn’t as if papa was anywhere in England. 
Besides, we’re not starved or beaten, and we’re in no 
danger of having our heads cut off.” 

“ I’d rather we were — there ’d be some fun in that,” 
said Princess Jinny. 

“ Fun ! ” repeated Agatha. 

“Well, it wouldn’t be as stupid as being shut up 
here in this dreary old nursery — I mean dungeon,” 
said Ginevra. “ And now that our cruel gaoler has 
refused to let us have the small solace of — of a — ” 
she could not find any more imposing word — “ doll to 
play with, I think the time has come to take matters 
into our own hands, princesses.” 


THE SIX POOR LITTLE PRINCESSES. 


57 


“ I’ve no objection,” said Helen and Agatha, speak- 
ing together. “But what do you mean to do ? ” 

“You shouldn’t call Miss Burton a gaoler — she 
isn’t as bad as that ; besides, she’s not a man,” said 
Elspeth, who had not before spoken. “We might 
call her the governor — no, governess ; but that sounds 
so funny, ‘governess of the tower,’ or custo — then 
some word like that, of the castle.” 

“ But this isn’t a tower — we’ve fixed that — nor a 
castle. It’s just a dungeon — that’ll do very well, 
and it’s great fun at night when we put out the can- 
dles and grope about in the dark. And gaoler will 
do very well for Miss Burton — some are quite kind, 
much kinder than she.” 

“ It’s all along of our never having had any 
mamma,” said a slow, soft little voice from the floor. 

“ Princess Butter-ball, what a vulgar way of speak- 
ing you have ! — ‘all along of ’ — I’m ashamed of 
you,” said Jinny severely. “ Besides, we did have a 
mamma once — all except — ” and she glanced at 
Baby, but without finishing her sentence. For had 
she done so poor Princess Baby would have burst 
into loud sobs ; it was a very sore point with her that 
she had never had a mamma at all, whereas all the 
others, even Butter-ball, were perfectly sure they 
could remember their mother. 

“If Aunt Ginevra would come home,” sighed 
Elspeth. “ We’ve always been promised she would.” 
“ And she’s written us kind letters,” added Agatha. 


58 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


“ What’s letters ?” said Jinny contemptuously. 

“ Well, you needn’t complain,” said Helen. “ She 
sent you a silver mug — real silver — and that’s more 
than any of our godmothers did for the rest of us.” 

“Yes, she did,” said Jinny, “and it’s fortunate for 
us all, princesses, that through all our troubles I have 
always kept that one — memento of happier days about 
my person — ” 

“ What stories, Jinny ! ” Agatha exclaimed. “ At 
least it’s stories if you’re being real just now. You 
mix up princess-ing and real, so that I get quite mud- 
dled. But, you know, you don't carry the mug about 
with you.” 

For all answer, Princess Ginevra, after some fum- 
bling in her pocket, drew out a short, thick parcel 
wrapped in tissue-paper, which she unfolded, and 
held up to view a silver mug. 

“ There now,” she said. 

Agatha looked rather crestfallen. 

“It must be very uncomfortable to have that 
lumpy thing in your pocket, and some day Miss 
Burton will be asking where it’s gone,” she said. 
“ I suppose it makes you fancy yourself more a prin- 
cess, but I’m getting rather tired of fancies. Now if 
we only had a beautiful doll, and could all work at 
dressing it, that would be worth something.” 

“ And we might go on being princesses all the same, 
or even more,” put in Elspeth. 

“Patience,” said Jinny, “patience and courage. 


THE SIX POOR LITTLE PRINCESSES. 


59 


Leave it to me. I think I see my way. I have my 
eye on a trusty adherent, and if I am not much mis- 
taken, you shall have a doll before Christmas.” 

All five pricked up their ears at this — they had 
all at the bottom of their hearts the greatest faith in 
Ginevra, though the elder ones now and then felt it 
necessary to snub her a little. 

“Are you in earnest, Jinny?” said Helen; “and 
if you are, I wish you’d tell us what you mean. 
Who is the trusty adherent ? ” 

“ I know,” said Agatha. “ It’s the red-haired boy 
next door. Jinny dropped her umbrella the other 
day and he picked it up for her, and she stopped to 
thank him — that day we had colds and couldn’t go 
out, Helen.” 

“No,” said Elspeth; “it was Jinny that picked 
up some of his books that dropped — he was carrying 
such a pile of awful messy ragged ones. He must 
go to a messy school.” 

“He was not going to school,” said Ginevra. 
“He was taking these old books to — but no, I 
must not betray him.” 

“ Rubbish,” said Agatha ; “ he can’t be more than 
nine. What could there be to betray? He's not a 
shut-up prince, Jinny. Do talk sense for once.” 

Ginevra changed her tone. 

“ I don’t want to tell you,” she said in a matter-of- 
fact voice, “for fear of disappointing you all. Just 
wait a very few days and then I’ll tell you. But first, 


60 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


supposing we could get a doll, what should it be like 
— fair or dark ? ” 

“Dark, black hair and brown eyes,” replied all 
the five voices. For the six princesses had fair 
curls and blue eyes, so, naturally, they preferred a 
contrast. 

“ Hum,” said Jinny. “ Brown hair, perhaps, but 
not black. The black-haired dolls in the shop- 
windows look common.” 

“Never mind. Any haired would do so long as 
we got her,” said Agatha. “ But don’t talk about 
it. It does make me want her so dreadfully.” 

Late that afternoon, just about the time that the 
little boy next door would be coming home from 
school, a small figure with a shawl drawn over its 
head might have been seen at Miss Burton’s front 
gate. She had waited patiently for some minutes. 
At last she was rewarded by the sight, or the sound 
rather, for it was almost too dark to see any one, of 
Master Red-Head coming up the road. When he 
got close to his own door she called out. It was 
rather difficult to do so, for she had no idea what his 
name was. 

“Master — Mr. — ” she began, and then changing . 
suddenly, “boy, please, I don’t know your name.” 

He stopped and came up to her, exclaiming of 
course, “ I say, who’s there ? What’s up ? ” 

“It’s me — Prin — I mean one of the little girls 
next door, the one who picked up your old books 


THE SIX POOR LITTLE PRINCESSES. 


61 


the other day. I want to ask yon something, 
please.” 

Red-Head was all attention, and the two went on 
talking for some minutes. 

“You’re sure he will?” said Jinny at last. 

“ Quite positive. I’ll get all out of him I can. 
It’s real silver, you say.” 

“ Real, pure silver,” she replied. 

“And — and it’s your very own? I mean you 
may do what you like with it?” Red-Head went on, 
for he was a boy with a conscience. 

“ Of course it’s my own. Do you think I’d steal ? ” 
exclaimed Jinny indignantly, so indignantly that 
she omitted to answer his second question, not even 
asking it of herself. 

“No, no, of course not. But you know — I 
wouldn’t get leave to sell my watch though it’s 
my own. Only I suppose it’s all because you’ve 
no father and mother to look after you. It’s very 
hard on you to have no toys. I suppose girls can’t 
live without dolls. But I say, tell me again about 
the doll. I’ll have to do it all at once, for we’re 
going away for the holidays the day after to- 
morrow.” 

“ You’re to get all the money you can, and the 
very prettiest doll you can have for the money. 
With brown hair, remember — not light, we’re tired 
of light, we’ve all got it ourselves — and not black, 
black’s common.” 


62 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


“And not red, I suppose. You may as well say it. 
I don’t mind.” 

“ Well, no,” said Gineyra hesitatingly. She would 
not for worlds have hurt his feelings — - no princess 
would so treat a trusty adherent — yet she could not 
pretend to a weekness for red hair. “ I think we’d 
like brown best.” 

“ All right. Then to-morrow afternoon, just about 
this time. It’s a half-holiday — we’re breaking up, 
but it’s best to wait till dark for fear you should get 
a scolding. I’ll be here just about this time, with — 
you know what.” 

“ Thank you, oh thank you so much,” and Ginevra 
held out her hand, half expecting him to kiss it, 
instead of which, however, he gave it a schoolboy 
shake. 

“ I can excuse it, however ; he could not be ex- 
pected to understand,” she said to herself as she flew 
up to the nursery. 

She could scarcely sleep that night, and the next 
morning it was all she could do to keep her secret. 
But there was plenty of determination under Princess 
Jinny’s fair curls, and by dint of much squeezing of 
her lips together and saying to herself what a pity 
it would be to spoil the beautiful “surprise,” she 
managed to get through the morning without dojrig 
more than dropping some mysterious hints. But how 
long the day seemed, short as it really was ! Would 
it never get dark? For it was clear and frosty, and 









I KJ g Jcr 







THE SIX POOR LITTLE PRINCESSES. 


63 


the afternoon, to Jinny, appeared, out of contradic- 
tion, to be twice as long as usual of closing in. 

“ All comes, however, to him (or her) who waits,” 
and the blissful moment at last arrived when Ginevra 
found herself running upstairs, though not so fast as 
the evening before, for fear of dropping the precious 
parcel she held in her arms. 

“ The dear, sweet boy,” she said to herself. “ I’d 
have liked to kiss him. Perhaps we all might when 
he comes home again.” 

For Red-Head’s last words had been a charge not 
to forget to let him know after the holidays if Miss 
Dolly was approved of. 

Ginevra burst into the nursery. 

“ Princesses,” she exclaimed, “ shut your eyes, 
while I unwrap her. I’ll shut mine too. I haven’t 
seen her myself.” 

“ Is it — can it be — the doll ? ” they all cried, and 
their hearts nearly stopped beating wdth excitement. 

“ Now,” Jinny exclaimed. 

They all pressed forward. All six pairs of eyes 
were fixed on Jinny’s lap, but not a sound was heard. 
A blank look of disappointment fell over every face. 
Red-Head, poor Red-Head had done his best, but oh, 
what a mistake ! He had bought a dressed doll, and 
as ten and sixpence, which was all he had got for 
the mug, will not go very far in such articles, it can 
be imagined that Dolly herself, notwithstanding the 
gorgeousness of her attire, fell short, lamentably short, 
of the poor princesses’ expectations. 


64 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


“She’s only china, and her hair’s a put-on wig,” 
said Agatha, with tears in her eyes. 

“Her clothes don’t even take off and on, and 
they’re not a bit like a little girl’s clothes,” said 
Elspeth. 

Ginevra said not a word ; her face told of nothing 
less than despair. 

“ And poor darling Jinny has sold her mug to buy 
it with — all to please us. I found it out, but it was 
too late to stop it,” said Helen. “ Jinny darling, we 
must like her, we will — anyway she’ll be better than 
nothing. We’ll make her new clothes, and then per- 
haps she won’t look so vulgar,” whereupon, Helen 
setting the example, all the five princesses fell upon 
Jinny’s neck and hugged and kissed her and each 
other amidst their tears. 

“And we mustn’t tell Red-Head,” said Jinny; 
“ he’d be so disappointed. He did his best. I never 
thought of saying she wasn’t to be dressed. He’s 
going away to-morrow, and of course they wouldn’t 
change the doll after he comes back. Besides, she is 
better than nothing, surely ? ” 

Christmas Eve — the six princesses sat on the 
window-sill looking out on the fast-falling snow. 
Dolly — partially denuded of her gorgeous attire, but 
looking rather woe-begone, if less self-satisfied and 
vulgar, for new clothes “ to take on and off,” and of 
irreproachable good taste, are not to be fashioned by 
little fingers in a day — was reposing in Butter-ball’s 


THE SIX POOR LITTLE PRINCESSES. 


65 


fat arms. They “took turns” of her, as was the 
fairest arrangement under the circumstances of six 
little girls and only one doll ; and, true to the sound 
philosophy of her being “better than nothing,” a 
certain half -contemptuous affection for her had taken 
the place of the first dislike. 

Suddenly — rat-tat-tat at the front knocker. 

“ The postman,” said Helen. “ Possibly there may 
be a Christmas card for us.” 

It was for “us,” but it was not a card. No; a 
letter, addressed outside to Helen as the eldest, but 
inside beginning “ My six dear little nieces.” 

“From Aunt Ginevra,” Helen exclaimed; “and 
oh, she is coming home at last. And oh, oh, just 
fancy, we are all to go to live with her. And — 
and — ” 

“ Read it aloud,” said Jinny quickly. But Helen 
was all trembling with excitement. Jinny seized it 
and read. 

Delightful news truly for the six imprisoned 
princesses ! 

“She must be nice,” said Jinny; “she writes so 
sweetly. And what can the presents be that she 
says she is sending us for Christmas ? ” 

Agatha looked over her shoulder. 

“I have chosen w T hat I think would have pleased 
me most when I was a little girl. The box is sent 
off by express from Paris, where your uncle and I 
are resting for a few days, so that you may have it 


66 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


by Christmas. And before the new year begins, my 
darlings, I hope to be at last with you.” 

Rat-tat-tat again. The railway van this time. 
Such a big box comes up to the nursery. Dear, dear, 
what a business to get it opened. How the six pairs 
of eyes shine, how the six pairs of hands tremble 
with eagerness as each undoes her own specially 
marked parcel. And oh, the cries of delight at last ! 
What could be lovelier, what more perfect, than 
the six exquisite dolls, each more beautiful than her 
sisters ! 

“ Real wax, real hair, real everysing,” cries Prin- 
cess Baby. 

“ One suit of clothes ready, taking off and on ones, 
and lots of stuff to make more,” adds Butter-ball. 

“ Oh, how sweet Auntie must be, how happy we 
are going to be ! ” cry all. 

But Jinny’s face is sad. 

“ My poor, ugly dolly,” she murmurs. “ And oh, 
what shall I say if Auntie asks for my jug?” 

“ We’ll tell her — all of us together. It was all for 
our sakes you did it, and so she can’t be angry,” say 
the other five. 

“And, Jinny, I do think the old doll would make 
a beautiful maid for the others ; she really couldn’t 
look vulgar in a neat print frock and white apron.” 

Ginevra brightens up at this. 

“ All the same,” she said, “ I wish now we had 
waited a little and believed that Auntie would come 


THE SIX POOR LITTLE PRINCESSES. 


67 


as soon as she could. I see that it would have been 
better. And oh, I do so hope she won’t be vexed.” 

She was not vexed ; only very, very sorry. More 
deeply sorry than the princesses themselves could 
understand. 

“I had no idea of it all,” said poor Auntie. 
“Yet I could not have come to you sooner, my 
darlings. Still — if I had known — But it is all 
over now, and you are going to be as happy as ever 
your Auntie can make you.” 

“ And it’s almost the same as having a mamma, 
isn’t it ? ” said Baby, satisfied that in this possession 
she had an undoubted share. 

The mug was reclaimed. And the dealer, who had 
paid far too little for it, was well frightened by no 
less a person than Uncle himself. 

Poor Red-Head never knew how he had failed. 
But Auntie, who got to know his father and mother, 
was able, without hurting his feelings, to make him 
understand that little boys do well to keep out of 
such transactions even when inspired by the kindest 
of motives. 


BASIL’S VIOLIN. 


Part I. 

“ Thank you so much for telling me about it. I 
am pleased, for it is just what I wanted to hear of.” 

“And I am so glad for Herr Wildermann’s sake. 
It rarely happens in this world that one hears of a 
want and a supply at the same time;” and the 
speaker, laughing as she said the last words, shook 
hands once again with her hostess and left her. 

Lady Iltyd went to the window, — a low one, lead- 
ing on to the garden, and looked out. Then she 
opened it and called out clearly, though not very 
loudly — 

“Basil, Basi — i — il, are you there, my boy?” 

“Yes, mother; I’m coming.” And from among 
the bushes, at a very short distance, there emerged a 
rather comical little figure. A boy of eight or nine, 
with a bright rosy face and short dark hair. Over 
his sailor suit he had a brown holland blouse, which 
once, doubtless, had been clean, but was certainly so 
no longer. It stuck out rather bunchily behind, 
owing to the large collar and handkerchief worn 
beneath, and as the child was of a sturdy make 
to begin with, and was extra flushed with his exer- 


68 


basil’s violin. 


69 


tions, it was no wonder that his mother stopped in 
what she was going to say to laugh heartily at her 
little boy. 

“ You look like a gnome, Basil,” she said. “ What 
have you been doing to make yourself so hot and 
dirty?” 

‘‘Transplanting, mother. It’s nearly done. I’ve 
taken a lot of the little wood plants that I have in 
my garden and put them down here among the big 
shrubs, where it’s cool and damp. It was too dry 
and sunny for them in my garden, Andrew says. 
They’re used to the nice, shady, damp sort of places 
in the wood, you see, mother.” 

“But it isn’t the time for transplanting, Basil. 
It is too late.” 

“ It won’t matter, .Andrew says, mother. I’ve put 
them in such a beautiful wet corner. But I’m 
awfully hot, and I’m rather dirty.” 

“ Rather,” said his mother. “ And, Basil, your 
lessons for to-morrow ? It’s four o’clock, and you 
know what your father said about having them 
done before you come down to dessert.” 

Basil shook himself impatiently. 

“ Oh bother ! ” he said ; “ whenever I’m a little 
happy somebody begins about something horrid. 
I’ve such a lot of lessons to-day. And it’s a half- 
holiday. I think it is the greatest shame to call it 
a half-holiday, and then give more lessons to do 
than any other day.” 


70 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


At the bottom of her heart Lady Iltyd was a little 
of Basil’s opinion ; but she felt it would do no good, 
and might do a great deal of harm to say so. Basil 
went as a day-scholar to a very good private school 
at Tarnworth, the little country town two miles off. 
He rode there on his pony in the morning, and rode 
home again at four o’clock. He liked his school- 
fellows, and did not cfo’slike his teachers, but he 
could not bear lessons ! There was this much ex- 
cuse for him, that he was not a clever boy in the 
sense of learning quickly. On the contrary, he 
learned slowly, and had to read a thing over several 
times before he understood it. Sometimes he would 
do so patiently enough ; but sometimes — and these 
“times,” I fear, came more frequently than the good 
ones — he was so impatient, so easily discouraged, 
that it was not a pleasant task to superintend his 
lessons’ learning. Yet he was not without a queer 
kind of perseverance of his own — he could not bear 
to go to bed leaving any of his lessons unfinished, 
and he would go on working at them with a sort of 
dull, hopeless resolution that was rather piteous, till 
one reflected that, after all, he might just as well 
look cheerful about it. But to look cheerful in the 
face of difficulties was not Basil’s “ way.” With the 
first difficulty vanished all his brightness and good 
temper, and all he could do was to work on like a 
poor little over-driven slave, with no pleasure or 
satisfaction in his task. And many an evening bed- 


basil’s violin. 


71 


time was long past before his lessons were ready, for 
though Basil well knew how long he took to learn 
them, and how the later he put them off the harder 
they grew, there was no getting him to set to work 
at once on coming home. He would make one 
excuse after another — “ it was not worth while 
beginning till after tea,” or his little sister Blanche 
had begged him to play with her just for five minutes, 
and they “hadn’t noticed how late it was,” or — or — 
it would be impossible to tell 'all the reasons why 
Basil never could manage to begin his lessons so as 
to get them done at a reasonable hour. So that at 
last his father had made the rule of which his mother 
reminded him — that he was not to come down to 
dessert unless his lessons were done. 

Now, not coming down to dessert meant more to 
Basil than it sounds, and nothing was a greater 
punishment to him. It was not that he was too fond 
of nice things, for he was not at all a greedy boy, 
though he liked an orange, or a juicy pear, or a 
macaroon biscuit as much as anybody, and he liked, 
too, to be neatly dressed, and sit beside his father in 
the pretty dining-room, by the nicely arranged table 
with the flowers and the fruit and the sparkling 
wine and shining glass. For though Basil was 
not in some ways a clever child, he had great taste 
for pretty and beautiful things. But it was none of 
the things I have mentioned that made him so very 
fond of “ coming down to dessert.” It was another 
thing. It was his mother’s playing on the piano. 


72 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


Every evening when Lady Iltyd left the dining- 
room, followed by Basil and Blanche, she used to go 
straight to the grand piano which stood in one corner 
of the library, where they generally sat, and there she 
would play to the children for a quarter of an hour 
or so, just whatever they asked for. She needed no 
“ music paper,” as Blanche called it ; the music 
seemed to come out of her fingers of itself. And this 
was Basil’s happiest moment of the day. Blanche 
liked it too, but not as much as Basil. She would 
sometimes get tired of sitting still, and begin to fidget 
about, so that now and then her mother would tell 
her to run off to bed without waiting for nurse to 
come for her. But not so Basil. There he would sit, 
— or lie perhaps, generally on the white fluffy rug 
before the fire, — with the soft dim light stealing in 
through the coloured glass of the high windows, or 
in winter evenings with no light but that of the 
fire fitfully dancing on the rows and rows and rows 
of books that lined the walls from floor to ceiling, 
only varied here and there by the portrait of some 
powdered-haired great-grandfather or grandmother 
smiling, or sometimes, perhaps, frowning down on 
their funny little descendant in his sailor-suit, with 
his short-cropped, dark head. A quaint little figure 
against the gleaming white fur, dreaming — what ? — 
he could not have told you, for he had not much 
cleverness in telling what he thought. But his 
music-dreams were very charming nevertheless, and 


basil’s violin. 


73 


in after life, whenever anything beautiful or exquisite 
came in his way, Basil’s thoughts always flew back 
to the old library and his mother’s playing. 

For long he had imagined that nothing of music 
kind could be more delightful. But a short time 
before this little story begins a new knowledge had 
come to him. At a concert at Tarn worth — for once 
or twice a year there were good concerts at the little 
town — he had heard a celebrated violinist play, and 
it seemed to Basil as if a new world had opened- to 
him. 

“ Mother,” he said, when the concert was over, 
looking up at his mother with red cheeks and spark- 
ling eyes, “it’s better than the piano — that little 
fiddle, I mean. It’s like — like — ” 

“ Like what, my boy ? ” 

“I can’t say it,” said Basil, “but it’s like as if the 
music didn’t belong to here at all. Like as if it came 
out of the air someway, without notes or anything. 
I think if I was an awfully clever man I could say 
things out of a fiddle, far better than write them in 
books.” 

His mother smiled at him. 

“ But you mustn’t call it a fiddle, Basil. A violin 
is the right name.” 

“ Violin,” repeated Basil thoughtfully. And a few 
minutes later, when they were in the carriage on their 
way home, “ Mother,” he said, “ do you think I might 
learn to play the violin ?” 


74 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


“ I should like it very much,” said his mother. 
“But I fear there is no teacher at Tarnworth. I 
will inquire, however. Only, Basil, there is one 
thing. The violin is difficult, and you don’t like 
difficulties.” 

Basil openecUhis eyes. 

“Difficult,” he said, and as he spoke he put up 
his left arm as he had seen the violinist do, sawing 
the air backwards and forwards with an imaginary 
bow in his right — “ difficult ! I can't fancy it would 
be difficult. But anyway, I’d awfully like to learn 
it.” 

This had been two or three months ago. Lady 
Iltyd had not forgotten Basil’s wish ; and, indeed, if 
she had been inclined to do so, I don’t think Basil 
would have let her. For at least two or three times 
a week he asked her if she had found a violin teacher 
yet, and whether it wouldn’t be a good plan to write 
to London for a violin. For, at the bottom of his 
heart, Basil had an idea which he did not quite like 
to express, in the face of what his mother had said 
as to the difficulty of violin playing, namely, that 
teaching at all would be unnecessary ! 

“ If I only had a violin in my arms,” he used to 
say to himself as he fiddled away with his invisible 
bow, “ I am sure I could make it sing out whatever 
I wanted.” 

And I am afraid that this idea of violin playing 
which had taken such a hold of him, did not help 


basil’s violin. 


75 


him to do his lessons any the quicker. He would 
fall into a brown study in the middle of them, im- 
agining himself with the longed-for treasure in his 
possession, and almost hearmg the lovely sounds, to 
wake up with a start to his half-finished Latin exer- 
cise or French verb on the open copy-book before 
him, so that it was really no wonder that the com- 
plaint, evening after evening repeated, “ Basil 
hasn’t finished his lessons,” at last wore out his 
father’s patience. 

We have been a long time of returning to the 
garden and listening to the conversation between 
Basil and his mother. 

“ YSs, I think it’s a shame,” repeated Basil, apropos 
of Wednesday afternoon lessons. 

“ But it can’t be altered,” said his mother, “ and 
instead of wasting time in grumbling, I think it 
would be much better to set to work. And Basil, 
listen. If you really exert yourself to the utmost, 
you may still get your lessons done in time this 
evening. And if they are done in time, and you can 
come down to dessert, I shall have something to tell 
you in the library after dinner.” 

“Something to tell me,” repeated Basil, looking 
rather puzzled. “How do you mean, mother? 
Something nice, do you mean ? ” 

He did not take up ideas very quickly, and now 
and then looked puzzled about things that would 
have been easily understood by most children. 


76 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


“ Nice, of course it is nice, you stupid old fellow,” 
said his mother, laughing. 44 Are you in a brown 
study, Basil ? That bodes ill for your lessons. Come, 
rouse yourself and give all your attention to them, 
and let me see a bright face at dessert. Of course 
it is something 4 nice ’ I have to tell you, or I wouldn’t 
make a bribe of it, would I? It’s very wrong to 
bribe you, isn’t it ? ” 

44 I don’t know,” said Basil. 44 I don’t think it can 
be if you do it. Kiss me, mother. I’ll try to do my 
lessons quickly,” and lifting up his rosy face for his 
mother’s kiss, he ran off. 44 But oh, how I do hate 
them ! ” he said to himself as he ran. 

After all, 44 they ” were not so very difficult to-day, 
or perhaps Basil really did try hard for once. How- 
ever that may have been, the result was a happy one. 
At dessert two bright little people made their appear- 
ance in the dining-room, and before his father had 
time to ask him the question he had hitherto so 
dreaded, the boy burst out with the good news — 

44 A11 done, father, every one, more than half an 
hour ago.” 

“Yes,” said Blanche complacently, “he’s been 
werry good. He’s put his fingers in his ears, and 
kept bumming to himself such a lot, and he hasn’t 
played the vi’lin one time.” 

44 Played the violin ! ” repeated her father. 44 What 
does she mean? You didn’t tell me Basil had already 
be — ” he went on, turning to the children’s mother ; 
but she hastily interrupted him. 


basil’s violin. 


77 


“ Blanche means playing an imaginary violin,” she 

said, smiling. 44 Ever since Basil heard Signor L 

at Tarnworth, his head has been running on violins 
so, that he stops in the middle of his lessons to refresh 
himself with a little inaudible music.” 

As she spoke she got up and moved towards the 
door. 

44 Bring your biscuits and fruit into the library, 
children,” she said. 44 You can eat them there. I’m 
not going to play to you this evening. We’re going 
to talk instead.” 

Up jumped Basil. 

44 1 don’t want any fruit,” he said, 44 1 really don’t. 
Blanche, you stay with father and eat all you want. 
I want to be a little while alone with mother in the 
library. Mayn’t I, mother?” he added coaxingly. 
44 Blanche doesn’t mind.” 

44 You are really very complimentary to me,” said 
his father, laughing. 44 Why should Blanche mind ? ” 

44 1 doesn’t,” said Blanche, very contentedly watch- 
ing her father pealing a pear for her. So Basil and 
his mother went off together for their talk. 

44 About the 4 something nice,’ mother ? ” began 
Basil. 

“Well, my boy, I’m quite ready to tell you. 
Mrs. Marchcote was here to-day. You know who I 
mean — the lady who lives in that pretty house at 
the end of Tarnworth High Street. You pass it every 
morning going to school.” 


78 


A CHRISTMAS ROSY. 


“ I know,” said Basil, nodding his head. “ But I 
don’t care about Mrs. Marchcote, mother. Is she 
going to have a children’s party — is that it? I don’t 
think I care about parties, mother.” And his face 
looked rather disappointed. 

“ Basil, Basil, how impatient you are ! I never 
said anything about a children’s party. Mrs. March- 
cote told me something quite different from that. 
Listen, Basil. A young German — Herr Wildermann 
is h'is name — has come to Tarnworth in hopes of 
making his living by teaching the violin. He can 
give pianoforte lessons also, but he plays the violin 
better. He plays it, she says, very beautifully. He 
has got no pupils yet, Basil. But — who do you 
think is going to be his first one ? ” 

Basil gazed at his mother. For a moment he felt a 
little puzzled. 

“Mother,” he said at last, “do you mean — oh, 
mother, are you going to let me have lessons? Shall 
I have a dear little violin of my own ? Oh, mother, 
mother ! ” 

And he jumped up from the rug where he had 
been lying at his mother’s feet, and looked as if he 
were ready to turn head over heels for joy ! 

“ Yes, my boy,” said his mother ; “ you are going to 
have your first lesson the day after to-morrow, and 
Herr Wildermann is to choose you a violin. But 
listen, Basil, and think well of what I say. It is not 
easy to learn to play the violin. Even if a child 


basil’s violin. 


79 


has a great deal of taste — talent even — for music, 
it requires great patience and perseverance to learn 
to play the violin at all well. No instrument requires 
more patience before you can arrive at anything really 
good. I would not say all this to another child — I 
would let Blanche, for instance, find out the difficul- 
ties for herself, and meet them as they come, cheer- 
fully and brightly as she always does. But you are 
so exaggerated about difficulties, Basil, that I want 
to save yourself and me vexation and trouble before 
you begin the violin. You are too confident at first, 
and you cannot believe that there will be difficulties, 
and then you go to the other extreme and lose heart. 
Now, I warn you that the violin is very difficult. 
And it is not a thing you must learn — not like your 
lessons at school. It will be a great, an immense 
pleasure to you once you master it, but unless you 
resolve to be patient and persevering and hopeful in 
learning it, you had better not begin it.” 

Lady Iltyd spoke very earnestly. She was anxious 
to make an impression on Basil, for she saw more 
clearly than any one the faults of his character, and 
longed to help him to overcome them. For a moment 
or two Basil remained silent, for he was, as she had 
hoped he would be, struck by what she had said, and 
was thinking over it. Then he jumped up, and 
throwing his arms round his mother’s neck, kissed 
her very lovingly. 

“Mother dear,” he said, “I do want to learn it, 


80 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


and I will try. Even if it is very difficult, I’ll try. 
You’ll see if I won’t, for I do love music, and I love 
you, mother. And I would like to please you.” 

Lady Iltyd kissed him in return. 

“My own dear boy,” she said, “you will please 
me very much if you overcome that bad habit of 
losing heart over difficulties.” 

“ He may learn more things than music in learning 
the violin,” she thought to herself. 

But as Basil went upstairs to bed, fiddling at his 
invisible violin all the way, and whistling the tune 
he liked to fancy he was playing, he said to himself : 
“ I do mean to try, but I can't believe it is so difficult 
as mother says.” 

Part II. 

That same afternoon an elderly woman was sitting 
alone by the window of a shabby little parlour over 
a grocer’s shop in the High Street of Tarnworth. 
She had a gentle, careworn face — a face that looked 
as if its owner had known much sorrow, but had not 
lost heart and patience. She was knitting — knit- 
ting a stocking, but so deftly and swiftly that it was 
evident she did not need to pay any attention to 
what her fingers were doing. Her eyes, — soft, old, 
blue eyes, with the rather sad look those clear blue 
eyes often get in old age, — gazed now and then out 
of the window — for from where she sat a corner of 
the ivy-covered church tower was to be seen making 


basil’s violin. 


81 


a pleasant object against the sky — and now and 
then turned anxiously towards the door. 

“ He is late, my poor Ulric,” she said to herself. 
44 And yet I almost dread to see him come in, with 
the same look on his face — always the same sad 
disappointment! Ah, what a mistake it has been, 
I fear, this coming to England — but yet we did it 
for the best, and it seemed so likely to succeed here 
where there are two or three such good schools and 
no music teacher. We did it for the best, however, 
and there is no use regretting it. The good God 
sees fit to try us — but still we must trust Him. 
Ah, if it were only I, but my poor boy ! ” 

And the old eyes filled with slow-coming tears. 
They were hastily brushed away, however, for at 
that moment the door opened and a young man, 
breathless with excitement, hurried into the room. 

44 Mother ! ” he exclaimed, but before he could say- 
more she interrupted him. 

44 What is it, my boy ? What is it, Ulric ? ” she 
exclaimed. 44 No bad news, surely ? ” 

44 Bad news, mother dear ? I scarcely see what 
more bad news could come to us. As long as we 
have each other, what is there for us to lose ? But 
I did not mean to speak gloomily this morning, for 
I have brought you good news. Fancy, mother, only 
fancy — I have got a pupil at last.” 

44 My Ulric — that is good news! ” said poor Frau 
Wilder man n. 


82 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


“ And who knows what it may lead to,” said the 
young man. “ I have always heard that the first 
pupil is the difficulty — once started, one gets on 
rapidly. Especially if the pupil is one likely to do 
one credit, and I fancy this will be the case with this 
boy. Mrs. Marchcote — it is through her kindness I 
have been recommended — says he has unusual taste 
for music. He has been longing to learn the violin.” 

“ Who is he ? ” asked the mother. 

“ The son of Sir John Iltyd — one of the principal 

families here. I could not have a better introduc- 

» 

tion. I am to go the day after to-morrow — three 
lessons a week, and well paid.” 

He went on to explain all about the terms to his 
mother, who listened with a thankful heart, as she 
saw Ulric’s bright eyes and eager, hopeful expression. 

“He has not looked like that for many a long 
day,” she thought to herself, “ and the help has not 
come too soon. Ulric would have been even more 
unhappy had he known how very little we have 
left.” 

And she felt glad that she had struggled on with- 
out telling her son quite the worst of things. What 
would she not have borne for him — how had she not 
struggled for him all these years ? He was the only 
one left her, the youngest and last of her children, 
for the other three had died while still almost infants, 
and Ulric had come to them when she and her 
husband were no longer young, and had lost hopes 


basil’s violin. 


83 


of ever having a child to cheer their old age. So 
never was a son more cherished. And he deserved 
it. He had been the best of sons, and had tried in 
his boyish way to replace his father, though he was 
only twelve years old when that father died. Since 
then life had been hard on them both, doubly hard, 
for each suffered for the other even more than per- 
sonally, and yet in another sense not so hard as if 
either had been alone. They had had misfortune 
after misfortune — the little patrimony which had 
enabled Frau Wildermann to yield to Ulric’s darling 
wish of being a musician by profession, had been 
lost by a bad investment just as his musical educa- 
tion was completed, and it seemed too late in the 
day for him to try anything else. And so for a year 
or two they had struggled on, faring not so badly in 
the summer when living is cheaper, and Ulric often 
got engagements for the season in the band at some 
watering-place, but suffering sadly in the long, cold 
German winters — suffering as those do who will 
not complain, who keep up a respectable appearance 
to the last. And then came the idea of emigrating 
to England, suggested to them by a friend who had 
happened to hear of what seemed like an opening at 
Tarnworth, where they had now been for nearly tw.o 
months without finding any pupils for Ulric, or 
employment of any kind in his profession for the 
young musician. 

So it is easy to understand the delight with which 


84 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


he accepted Lady Iltyd’s proposal, made to him by 
Mrs. Marchcote. 

It would be difficult to say which of the two, 
master or pupil, looked forward the more eagerly to 
the first music-lesson. Basil dreamed of it night and 
day. Herr Wilder mann on his side built castles in 
the air about the number of pupils he was to have, 
and the fame he was to gain through his success 
with Lady Iltyd’s boy. Poor fellow, it was not from 
vanity that his mind dwelt on and so little doubted 
this same wonderful success ! 

And in due course came the day after to-morrow, 
neither hastened nor retarded by the eagerness with 
which it was looked forward to. 

“ What a beautiful home ! The child cannot but 
be refined and tender in nature who has been brought 
up in such a home,” thought Herr Wildermann, 
ready at all times to think the best, and more than 
usually inclined to-day to see things through rose- 
coloured spectacles. 

He was walking up the long avenue of elms, lead- 
ing to the Hall. The weather was lovely, already 
hot, however, and he would have liked to take off 
his hat and let the breeze — what there was of it, 
that is to say — play on his forehead. But he had 
not a free hand, for he was loaded with no less than 
three violins, his own and two others, what are called 
half and three-quarters sized, as, till he saw his little 
pupil, he could not tell which would suit him. He 


basil’s violin. 


85 


did look rather a comical object, I dare say, to the 
tall footman at the door, but not so to the eager 
child who had spent the last hour at least in peeping 
out to see if his master was not yet coming. 

“ Mother,” he exclaimed, rushing back into the 
room, “he’s come. And he’s brought loads of 
violins.” 

“Loads,” repeated Lady Iltyd, smiling down at 
her boy, whose rosy cheeks and bright eyes were 
still rosier and brighter than usual; “well, among 
them it is to be hoped there will be one to suit you.” 

Then she turned to Ulric, who was standing in 
the doorway, half dazzled by the brightness of the 
pretty room into which he was ushered after the 
darker hall, and still more confused by his intense 
anxiety to please the graceful lady who was greeting 
him so kindly, and to win the liking of the child he 
was to teach. But Basil’s mother’s pleasant manner 
soon set him at his ease, and in a minute or two he 
was opening the violin cases and discussing which 
would be the right size for the boy. Basil gazed 
and listened in silence. At the first glance Herr 
Wildermann had felt a little disappointed. His new 
pupil was not certainly a poetical looking child ! 
His short sturdy figure and round rosy face spoke 
of the perfection of hearty boyish life, but nothing 
more. But his breathless eagerness, the intense 
interest in his eyes — most of all the look in his face 
as he listened to a little caprice which Ulric played 


86 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


on his own violin as a sort of introduction to the 
lesson, soon made the musician change his opinion. 

“ He has it — he has the musician’s soul. One can 
see it ! ” he half said, half whispered to Lady Iltyd, 
though he had the good sense to understand what 
might have seemed a little cold in her answer. 

“ I think Basil truly loves music,” she said, “ but 
you will join with me, I am sure, Herr Wildermann, 
in telling him that to be a musician at all, to play 
well above all, takes much patience and perseverance. 
Nothing in this world can be done without trouble, 
can it ? ” 

“ Ah no,” said Herr Wildermann, “ that is true.” 

But Basil, whose fingers were fidgeting to touch at 
last the violin and dainty bow, said nothing. 

“ I will leave you,” said his mother. “ I think 
you will find it better to be alone with Basil, Herr 
Wildermann.” 

And she left the room. 

She listened with some anxiety to the sounds 
which now and then made their way to the room 
where she sat writing. Sweet clear sounds occasion- 
ally from the master’s violin, but mingled, it must 
be confessed, with others the reverse of musical. 
Squeakings and gruntings, and a dreadful sort of 
scraping whine, not to be described in words. 

“ My poor Basil,” thought his mother, though it 
was a little difficult not to smile at a most unearthly 
shriek that just then reached her ears. “ I hope he 
is not losing his temper already.” 


basil’s violin. 


87 


But she waited quietly till the sounds ceased. 
Then came the soft sweet notes of a melody which 
she knew well, played by Herr Wildermann alone ; 
and a few minutes after she saw among the trees the 
tall thin figure of the young German, laden with but 
two violins this time as he made his way down the 
avenue. 

She waited a minute or two to see if Basil would 
come to her. Then, as he did not, she returned to 
the morning room where he had had his lesson. He 
was still there, standing by the window, but she was 
pleased to hear as she went in that he was humming 
to himself the air that Ulric had played last. 

“Well, Basil?” she said, “and how did you get 
on?” 

The boy turned round — there was a mixture of 
expressions on his face. A rather dewy look about 
his eyes made his mother wonder for a moment if 
he had been crying. But when he spoke it was so 
cheerfully that she thought she must have been 
mistaken. 

“ He plays so beautifully, mother,” he said. 

“Yes,” she replied. “I knew he did. I heard 
him one day at Mrs. Marchcote’s, and I listened this 
morning.” 

“ You listened, mother? ” he said. “ Did you hear 
how awfully it squeaked with me ? ” 

“ Of course,” said Lady Iltyd, in a matter-of-fact 
way ; “ it is always so at first.” 


88 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


Basil seemed relieved. 

“Yes,” lie said, u he said so too. But I don’t 
mind. He says I shall very soon be able to make 
it sound prettily — to get nice sounds , you know, even 
before I can play tunes, if — ” and Basil hesitated. 

“ If what?” 

“If I practise a lot. But I think I shall. It’s 
rather fun after all, and I do so like to have that 
ducky little violin in my arms. It does feel so jolly,” 
and he turned with sparkling eyes again to the dainty 
little case containing his new treasure. 

His mother was pleased. The first brunt of dis- 
appointment which she was sure Basil had felt, 
whether he owned to it or not, had passed off better 
than she had expected. 

And for some days his energy continued. At all 
hours, when the boy was at home, unearthly squeaks 
and shrieks were to be heard in various parts of the 
house, for it was not at all Basil’s way to confine his 
practisings to his own quarters. Anywhere that came 
handy — on the staircase, in the pantry, when he took 
it into his head to pay a visit to the footmen, the 
boy and his violin were to be seen at all sorts of odd 
hours, and alas, still more surely to be heard! For 
a while his mother thought it best not to interfere, 
she did not wish to check his ardour, and the second 
and third lessons went off, as far as she could judge, 
very well. But gradually the violin grew less talka- 
tive — a day, then a couple of days, then even longer, 





BASIL’S "VIOLIN 

lvn 1’lne ■pantVy, wVien Vie TooU it* info 
^ Viib head to pay a visit 1o The- footmen o ” 








basil’s violin. 


89 


passed without its voice being heard, and one day, 
towards the close of the fifth or sixth lesson, Lady 
Iltyd, going into the room, saw a look she knew too 
well on her little son’s face. He flung down the 
violin and turned to Herr Widermann — 

“ I can't play any more — nasty thing — I believe 
it’s got a bad fairy inside it,” he said, half in fun, 
half in petulance. 

“ Why, Basil — ” began his mother, but her glance 
happening at the moment to fall on the young Ger- 
man, she stopped short, startled at the look of in- 
tense distress that overspread his features. “ He 
thinks I shall blame him, poor fellow,” she thought, 
and, with her quick kindliness, she tried, indirectly, 
to reassure him. - 

“Don’t look so grave about this silly little boy, 
Herr Wildermann,” she said brightly. “Suppose 
you drive away the bad fairy by playing to us, and 
let lazy Basil rest a little.” 

Basil’s face, which had clouded over at the begin- 
ning of this speech, brightened up again. He flung 
himself down on the rug with the air of one intend- 
ing to enjoy himself. And for the next ten minutes 
or so not a sound was heard but the exquisite tones 
of the master’s violin, thrilling with intensity, then 
warbling like a bird in the joyous spring-time, bring- 
ing the tears to the boy’s eyes with its tender pathos, 
and then flushing his cheeks with excitement, till at 
last they died away in the distance as it were, as if re- 


90 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


turning to the enchanted land from whence they 
came. 

Basil gave a deep sigh. 

“Ah,” he said, in a low voice, “to play like 
that — ” 

Herr Wildermann’s face lighted up. 

“He has it — he loves it so much, madame,” he 
said half apologetically to Lady Iltyd. 

“Yes,” she said, but her tone was rather grave. 
“ But it is not enough to love it. He must learn not 
to be so easily discouraged. You know, my boy, 
what I said to you at the beginning,” she went 
on, turning to Basil, “ it is not a necessity to learn 
the violin. I would rather you gave it up than 
make it a worry and vexation to yourself and 
others.” 

Basil stopped her with a kiss. 

“ It’s only when the bad fairy comes,” he said. 
“ Don’t be vexed with me, mother. I’m in a beauti- 
ful good temper now.” 

A day or two after this, Basil’s mother left home 
for a fortnight. She said a few words to him before 
she went, about his violin lessons, but not much, for 
she had heard him practising again with more atten- 
tion, and she had begun to hope his impatience and 
discouragement had been merely a passing fit. So 
she only repeated to him what she had said already. 
Basil listened in silence, with an expression on his 
face she did not quite understand. But she thought 


basil’s violin. 


91 


it better to say no more, especially when the boy 
flung his arms round her neck, and repeated more 
than once — 

“ I do want to please you, little mother ; I do, I 
do,” he cried ; and her last sight of him, as the car- 
riage drove away, was standing with his violin in 
his arms at the hall-door, pretending to fiddle away 
at a great rate. 

“ He is only a baby after all,” said Lady Iltyd to 
herself. “ I must not be too anxious about his faults. 
This fortnight will test his perseverance about the 
violin. If he is not going to be steady about it, he 
must give it up.” 

Alas ! the fortnight tested Basil and found him 
wanting. There were some excuses perhaps. It 
was very hot, and the half-yearly examinations were 
coming on. In his parents’ absence it had been 
arranged that he was to stay later at school so as to 
get his lessons done before coming home — a very 
necessary precaution ; for without his mother at 
hand to keep him up to his work, it is to be doubted 
if the lessons would often have been finished before 
midnight! Basil would not have gone to bed and 
left them undone — that was not his way; but he 
would have wasted three hours over what with 
energy and cheerfulness might have been well done 
in one. At school, under the eye of a master, this 
was less likely to occur — the boy was to some extent 
forced to give his attention and keep up his spirit, 


92 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


though the master, whose business it was to super- 
intend the lessons preparing, found his labours in- 
creased in no trifling way during the fortnight of 
Basil’s staying later. 

And when he got home after all this hard work, 
the boy felt inclined for a romp with Blanche, or a 
stroll in the garden, far more than for practising the 
violin ! Half-holidays, too, in hot weather, presented 
many temptations. The hay was down in the park 
on the side nearest the house, the strawberries were 
at their prime ; there seemed always something else 
to do than struggling with the capricious little in- 
strument, whose “ contrariness,” as he called it, 
really made Basil sometimes fancy it was bewitched. 

“You’ve got it inside you; why won’t you let it 
come out for me as well as for him ? ” he would say, 
addressing his violin, half in fun, half in petulance, 
after some vain but not very sustained effort to draw 
out of it tones in any way approaching those which 
in Herr Wildermann’s hands seemed to come of 
themselves. “ No, I’ve no patience with you. It’s 
too bad,” and down he would fling violin and bow, 
declaring to himself he would never touch them 
again. But when the day for the music lesson came 
round, and Herr Wildermann drew out some few 
lovely notes before Basil was ready to begin, all the 
boy’s impatience disappeared, and he listened as if 
entranced till his master recalled his attention. And 
thus, seeing the child’s undoubted love for music, 


basil’s violin. 


98 


Ulric could not yet feel altogether discouraged, 
though again there were times when he doubted if 
his efforts would ever succeed in making a musician 
of the boy. 

“ But as long as he likes it so much,” he 
would say to himself, “and provided he does not 
wish to give it up, it would be wrong of me to 
suggest it. In an}^ case it is for his mother to 
judge.” 

Before the fortnight was over, however, Herr 
Wildermann’s patience was sorely tried. There 
came a day on which, with a sudden outburst of 
temper, Basil refused to try any more, and only by 
dint of promising to play to him for a quarter of an 
hour after the lesson was over, could his master get 
him to make any effort. Nor was it worth much 
when made. 

And poor Ulric walked home that day to the 
little lodging over the grocer’s shop with a heavy 
heart. 

Part III. 

In the first pleasant excitement of her return 
home and finding the children well, and to all ap- 
pearance happy, Lady Iltyd did not think of what 
had, nevertheless, been often in her mind during her 
absence — namely, Basil’s violin ! 

But the day after, when he came back from 
school and was beginning to tell her all he had been 


94 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


busied about while she was away, the question soon 
came to her lips, “ And what about your violin, my 
boy?” 

Basil hesitated — then his rosy face grew rosier 
than before, and he stood first upon one leg and then 
upon the other, a habit of his when not quite easy 
in his mind. 

“Well?” said Lady Iltyd. 

Then out it came. 

“ Mother,” he began, “ I didn’t like to tell you 
yesterday just when you first came back, but I was 
going to tell you. I know you’ll be vexed, but I 
must tell you the truth. I haven’t got on a bit — I 
tried to practise at first, but I can't get to play, and 
I hate it — I mean I hate not being able to play — 
and please, mother, I want to leave it off.” 

A rather sad look came over Lady Iltyd’s face, 
but she only said quietly — 

“Very well, Basil. You have quite made up your 
mind, I suppose ? ” 

“ Yes,” he replied. “ You know you always said, 
mother, I needn’t go on with it if I didn’t — if it was 
too difficult,” for he could not truthfully say “if I 
didn’t care for it.” 

“ Yes. I told you it was no necessity. Very well, 
then, I will tell Herr Wildermann to-morrow.” * 

“But, mother,” Basil hesitated, “I didn’t want 
you to be vexed about it.” 

“ I am not vexed” his mother replied. “ My dis- 


basil's violin. 


95 


appointment is another matter. But I will keep to 
what I said. It is better for you to give it up than 
to make a trouble of it to yourself and others. Now 
run away, for I am busy.” 

Basil went out of the room slowly, and not feeb 
ing altogether happy in his mind. “It isn’t fair 
of mother,” he said to himself; “she told me I 
needn’t go on with it if I didn’t like, and she never 
said she’d be vexed if I gave it up, and she is 
vexed.” But he would not remember how much 
and often his mother had warned him before he 
began, how she had told him of the patience and 
perseverance required, and how he had refused to 
believe her ! And, boy-like, he soon forgot all about 
it in a game with Blanche and the dogs in the 
garden, or remembered it only with a feeling of 
relief that he need not cut short his play to go in to 
practise his unlucky violin. But a remark of his 
little sister’s rather destroyed his equanimity. 

“ I’m going in now, Basil,” she said with the little 
“proper” air she sometimes put on; “ I’ve not finished 
my scales yet, and I won’t have time after tea. And 
you should go in for your violin, Basil. Come along.” 

“No,” said Basil, rolling himself again lazily on 
the smooth lawn ; “ I’m not going to bother with it 
any more. I’ve given it up.” 

Blanche’s eyes opened wide. 

“ Oh, Basil ! ” she exclaimed. “ How sorry mother 
will be ! ” 


96 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


“ Rubbish,” said Basil, roughly. “ Mother always 
said I might leave it off if I liked. I don’t want 
you to preach to me, Blanche.” Upon which Blanche 
walked away, her little person erect with offended 
dignity. 

Basil did not feel happy, but he called the dogs to 
him and went off whistling. 

The next day was a half-holiday. Basil came 
home at mid-day, and the violin lesson was in the 
afternoon. 

“ Am I to have a lesson to-day, mother ? ” said the 
boy at luncheon. 

“ Herr Wildermann is coming,” replied his mother, 
“ it would be very rude to let him come for nothing. 
I will see him first, and then you can go to him 
for the hour. If he likes to play to you instead of 
your having a lesson, I do not care. It does not 
signify now.” 

The idea would have been very much to Basil’s 
taste, but the tone in which his mother said that 
“now,” made him again feel vexed. He tried to 
fancy he had cause for being so, for he would not 
own to the real truth — that he was vexed with him- 
self, and that “ himself ” deserved it. 

“ It isn’t fair,” he repeated half sullenly. 

Two hours later he was summoned to the library. 
Herr Wildermann had come fully a quarter of an 
hour before — he had heard his ring, and he knew 
his mother was in the drawing-room waiting for him. 


basil’s violin. 


97 


When he entered the library he thought at first there 
was no one there — the violin cases lay open on the 
table, the music-stand was placed ready as usual ; 
but that was all. No pleasant voice met him with 
a friendly greeting in broken English and words of 
kindly encouragement. 

“Can Herr Wildermann have gone already?” 
thought the boy. “ He might have waited to say 
good-bye. What did Sims call me for if he had gone?” 

And he was turning to leave the room with a 
mixture of feelings — irritation and some disappoint- 
ment, mingled nevertheless with a certain sense of 
relief, for he had dreaded this last lesson — when a 
slight, a very slight sound seeming to come from 
somewhere near the windows, caught his ear. He 
had come into the room more softly than his wont, 
and his footfall had made no sound on the thick 
carpet. The person who was hidden by the curtains 
had not heard him, had no idea any one was in the 
room, for through a sort of half-choked sob the child 
heard two or three confused words which, though 
uttered in German, were easy enough to under- 
stand — 

“ My mother, ah, my poor mother ! How can I 
tell her ? Oh, my mother ! ” 

And startled and shocked, Basil stopped short in 
the question that was on his lips. “Who’s there? 
Is it you, Blanche?” he had been on the point of 
saying, when the words caught his ears. 


98 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


“It must be Herr Wildermann — can he be 
crying ?” said Basil to himself, his cheeks growing 
red as the idea struck him. “ What should I do ? ” 

He had no time to consider the question, for as 
he stood in perplexity his little dog Yelpie, who had 
followed him into the room, suddenly becoming 
aware of the state of things, dashed forward with 
a short sharp bark. 

“Yelpie — Yelpie,” cried Basil ; “be quiet, Yelpie. 
It’s only Herr Wildermann. Don’t you know him, 
Yelpie ? What a stupid you are ! ” 

He went on talking fast to give the young Ger- 
man time to recover himself, for, on hearing Basil’s 
voice, Ulric had come forward from the shelter of the 
curtain. He was not red, but pale, — very pale, 
with a look of such intense misery in his eyes, that 
Basil’s momentary feeling of contempt entirely faded 
into one of real anxiety and sympathy. 

“Are you ill, Herr Wildermann? You look so 
strange. Is your mother ill ? Is anything dreadful 
the matter ? ” he asked hurriedly, pressing forward 
nearer to the young man. 

Ulric tried to smile, but it was a poor attempt, and 
he felt that it was so. Suddenly a sort of weak, 
faint feeling came over him — he had walked over 
to the Park in the full heat of the day, and the meals 
that were eaten over the grocer’s shop were very fru- 
gal ! — he had not been prepared for the news that 
had met him. “ Could I — might I have a glass of 


basil’s violin. 


99 


water, Master Basil?” he said, drawing to him a 
chair and dropping into it. 

“ I’ll ring for — no, stay, I’ll fetch it myself,” said 
Basil, with quick understanding. “ I shouldn’t like 
the servants to know he had been crying — poor 
man,” he thought to himself as he left the room. 
And in two minutes he was back with a glass of 
wine and water. 

“I made Sims put some sherry in it,” he said half 
apologetically. “ You’ve knocked yourself up some- 
how, Herr Wildermann, haven’t you?” 

And Ulric drank obediently, and managed this 
time to smile more successfully. “How kind and 
thoughtful the boy was — how could he be the cause 
of such sorrow, if indeed he understood it ! ” thought 
the young man to himself. 

“I — yes — perhaps it was the hot sun,” he said 
confusedly, as he put down the glass. “ Thank you, 
very much. I am all right now. Had we not better 
begin? Not that I am hurried,” he went on. “I 
can stay a full hour from now. I have no engage- 
ments — nothing to hurry me home,” he added sadly, 
for in his heart he was thinking how he dreaded the 
return home, and what he would have to tell his 
poor old mother. 

“But what’s the matter?” persisted Basil, who, 
now that the ice was broken, felt inclined to get to 
the bottom of things. “ What are you so troubled 
about — what were you — ?” He hesitated and 


100 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


stopped short, and again his rosy cheeks grew redder 
than usual. 

Herr Wildermann looked up. He was still very 
pale, but he did not seem self-conscious or ashamed. 

“You saw my distress?” he said quietly. “Ah, 
well, I could not help it — the thought of my poor 
mother — ” He turned away and bit his lips. “ I 
thought you knew the cause of it,” he went on ; 
“your lady mother, did you not know — did she 
not tell you that she meant to-day to give me notice 
that the lessons are to cease — that this is to be the 
last?” 

Basil opened his mouth as if he meant to say 
something, and stood there, forgetting to shut it 
again, and staring up in Ulric’s face, though no 
words came. Ulric, after waiting a moment or two, 
turned away and began arranging the violins. 
Then at last the boy ejaculated — 

“Herr Wildermann, you — you don’t mean to say 
— ” and stopped short again. 

“To say what?” asked the young German, but 
without much tone of interest in his voice. He had 
quite mastered himself by now — a sort of dull, hope- 
less resignation was coming over him — it did not 
seem to matter what Basil said about it ; it was all 
settled, and the momentary gleam of good-fortune 
which had so raised his hopes had faded into the 
dark again. “We must go back to Germany,” he 
was saying to himself. “ Somehow or other I must 


basil’s violin. 


101 


scrape together money enough to take my mother 
back to her own country. There at least she need 
not starve. I can earn our daily bread, even if I 
have to give up music for ever.” 

But again Basil’s voice interrupted his thoughts. 

“ Herr Wildermann,” said the boy, speaking now 
with eagerness, and throwing aside his hesitation, 
“ is it possible that it is about my lessons that you’re 
unhappy? Does it matter to you if I give them up? 
I never thought of it.” 

“Master Basil,” said the young man sadly, “it 
does not signify now. It is all settled. But I do 
not blame you. It is not your fault — at least, it is 
not exactly your fault. You are so young, and the 
violin is very difficult. I am sorry to lose you as a 
pupil, for I think you could have learnt well, if you 
had had more hopefulness and perseverance.” 

And again he turned away as if there were no 
more to be said. 

But Basil was not to be so easily satisfied. 

“ Herr Wildermann,” he exclaimed, going nearer 
to his master and pulling him gently by the sleeve, 
“that can’t be all. I dare say you’re vexed at my 
giving it up when you’ve tried so hard to teach me, 
but that wouldn’t make you so dreadfully sorry. 
Herr Wildermann, do tell me all about it? Is it 
because — because of the money ? ” he whispered at 
last. “ Are you so — does it matter so much ? ” 

Ulric turned his pale face to the boy. Its ex- 


102 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


pression was still sad — very sad, but quiet and 
resigned. 

“ Yes, my child,” he said composedly. “ Why 
should I hide it? There is no shame in it — yes, it 
is because of the money. We are very poor. And 
also I had hoped much from giving you lessons. I 
thought if I succeeded as I expected it would have 
brought me other pupils.” 

Basil gazed up in the young man’s face for a mo- 
ment or two without speaking. He did not take in 
ideas very quickly, and perhaps he had never before 
in his life thought so seriously as at this moment. 

“I see,” he said at last. “I did not understand 
before. If I had known — but even now it is not too 
late, Herr Wildermann. I need not give up my 
lessons. I will ask mother to let me go on with 
them, and you will see she will agree in a moment.” 

A gleam of pleasure lighted up Ulric’s pale face, 
but it faded almost as quickly as it had come. 

“ Thank you for your kind thought, my little 
friend,” he said ; “ but what you propose would not 
be right. It would not be right for your mother 
to pay me money for teaching you when she had 
decided that she did not want me to teach you any 
more. It would be a mere charity to me — it would 
be more honest for me to ask for charity at once,” 
he went on, the colour mounting to his face. “ No, 
Basil, it could not be; but thank you as much. 
Now let us go on with our lesson.” 


basil’s violin. 


103 


Basil understood, but was not satisfied. The 
lesson passed quietly. Never had the boy so 
thoroughly given his attention, or tried so hard to 
overcome the difficulties which had so disheartened 
him. 

“ It is too bad,” he said to himself ; “ but it is all 
my own fault. I believe I could have got on if I 
had really tried. And now it is too late. He 
wouldn’t give me lessons now, for he would think it 
was only for him.” 

Suddenly an idea struck him. 

“Herr Wildermann,” he said, “won’t you do this ? 
Suppose I ask for just six lessons more, and I will 
try. You’ll see if I don’t. Well, after these six, if 
I’m not getting on any better, it’ll be given up. But 
if I am, and if I really want to go on, you won’t 
think it’s not right, will you ? ” 

Ulric hesitated. 

“No,” he said; “I have no scruples in going on 
teaching you, for I feel certain you could learn well 
if you were more hopeful. But you must explain 
it all to your mother, and — and — ” He stopped 
short, and then went on resolutely. “ I will not be 
ashamed. It is for my mother — anything for her. 
It was only the feeling, my boy — but perhaps you 
are too young to understand — the feeling that it was 
almost like asking charity.” 

“ I do understand,” exclaimed Basil, “ and I don’t 
think I need tell mother yet , Herr Wildermann. I 


104 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


don’t want to promise again, and perhaps not keep 
my promise. I’ll just ask for the six lessons, and 
tell mother I can’t tell her why just yet. And then 
think how surprised she’ll be if I really do get on ; ” 
and the boy’s eyes sparkled with delight. But to 
Ulric’s there came tears of thankfulness. 

If Lady Iltyd suspected in part what had worked 
the change in Basil’s ideas and prompted his re- 
quest, she was too wise to say so. His petition for 
six lessons more was granted willingly, but not 
lightly. 

“ Do you really mean to profit by them, Basil ? ” 
she asked. “ If so, I am only too willing that you 
should go on and give yourself a fair trial.” 

“ That is it, mother,” said the boy eagerly, “ I 
want to see, to try if I can’t do better. At least 
that is partly it,” he went on, for he had already 
told her that he could not explain the whole just 
yet. 

So poor Ulric Wildermann went home with a 
lighter heart than he had expected. He hoped much 
from these six lessons, for it was evident that Basil 
meant to put his heart into them. 

“ I need not tell my mother of my fears,” thought 
Ulric to himself, “for they may, after all, prove to 
be only fears, and what would be the use of making 
her miserable in such a case ? ” And he was so bright 
and cheerful that evening in the little sitting-room 
over the grocer’s shop, that even his mother’s eyes 


basil’s violin. 


105 


failed to discover that he had had more than usual 
anxiety that day. 

One week, two weeks, three weeks passed. It was 
the day of the last of the six lessons. 

44 Mother,” said Basil that morning when he was 
starting for school, 44 1 have my violin lesson this 
afternoon when I come home, you know. Herr 
Wildermann told me to ask you if you would come 
in to-day while I am playing. Not at the beginning, 
please, but about half-way through. He wants you 
to see if I am getting on better,” and then, with a 
very happy kiss, he was off. 

Lady Iltyd had left Basil quite to himself about 
his violin these last weeks. She had not heard much 
of his practising, but she had noticed that he got his 
school lessons done quickly and without needing to 
be reminded, and then regularly disappeared in his 
own quarters, and she had her private hopes and 
expectations. 

Nor were they disappointed. What cannot be 
done with patience and cheerfulness ? Those three 
weeks had seen more progress made than the three 
months before, and Basil’s eyes danced with pleasure 
when he left off playing and stood waiting to hear 
what his mother would say. 

She said nothing, but she drew him to her and 
kissed him tenderly, and Basil, peeping up half 
shyly — for somehow, as he told Blanche afterwards, 
“mother’s pleased kisses” always made him feel a 
little shy — saw a glimmer of tears in her eyes. 


106 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


“You are pleased, mother?” he whispered, and 
another kiss was the answer. Then the young 
stranger same forward. 

“Herr Wildermann, I must thank you for all the 
trouble you have taken. I am more than pleased,” 
said Lady Iltyd warmly. “ How have you succeeded 
so well ? You have taught him more than his music 
— you have taught him to persevere, and to keep 
up heart in spite of difficulties.” 

“He has taught himself, madame,” said Ulric 
eagerly, his face flushing. “It was his kind heart 
that gave him what he needed. Ah, Master Basil,” 
he went on, turning to his little pupil, “ I must now 
tell the whole, and then it will be to say if you are 
still to continue your lessons.” 

“ The whole ” was soon told, and it is easy to un- 
derstand that it did not lessen Lady Iltyd’s pleasure. 
She had been glad to find her boy capable of real 
effort and determination — she was still more glad to 
find that the new motive which had prompted these 
was unselfish sympathy and kindness. 

“I thank you again , Herr Wildermann,” she said, 
when the young man had told her all, “ you have, as 
I said, taught Basil more lessons than you knew. 
And your mother is happy to have so good a son.” 

Better days began for the young music-master. 
Thanks to Basil’s mother and to Basil himself, for 
the boy became a pupil who would have done credit 
to any master, Herr Wildermann gradually made his 


BASILS VIOLIN. 


107 


way in the neighbourhood he had chosen for his new 
home, and his old mother’s later days were passed in 
peace and comfort. He always counted Tarnworth 
his home, though as time went on he came to be 
well known as one of the first violinists of the 
day, in London and others of the great capitals of 
Europe. 

But sometimes when his success and popularity 
were at the highest, he would turn to the friend who 
had been his first pupil, and say half regretfully — 

“ You might excel me if you chose, Basil. I could 
sometimes find it in my heart to wish that you too 
had been born a poor boy with his way to make in 
the world.” 

And Basil Iltyd would laugh as he told Ulric 
that his affection made him over-estimate his pupil’s 
talent. 

“ Though, such as it is,” he added, “ I have to 
thank you for having drawn it out, and added untold 
pleasure to my life.” 

For though Basil had too many other duties to 
attend to for it to be possible for him to devote very 
much time to music, he never neglected it, and never 
forgot the gratitude he owed his mother for encour- 
aging his boyish taste. 

“ Above all,” Lady Iltyd used often to say, “ as in 
mastering the violin, you gained your first battle over 
impatience and want of perseverance. ’ 

“My first but not my last,” he would answer 


108 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


brightly. For Basil came to be known for steady, 
cheerful determination, which, after all, is worth 
many more brilliant gifts in the journey through 
life, which to even the most fortunate is uphill and 
rugged and perplexing at times. 


THE MISSING BON-BONS. 


A TRUE STORY. 

Chapter I. 

“ Let it either be grave or glad 
If only it may be true.” 

Dear me, such a lot of children! At first you 
could hardly have believed that they were all 
brothers and sisters — such a number there seemed, 
and several so nearly of a size. There were — let 
me see — two, three, four, actually five girls of vary- 
ing heights, the two elder, twins apparently, for in 
all respects they resembled each other so closely; 
three or four boys, too, from Jack of fourteen to 
little hop-o’-my-thumb Chris of six. There they 
were all together in the large empty playroom at 
Landell’s Manor, dancing, jumping, shouting, as only 
a roomful of perfectly healthy children, under the 
influence of some unusual and delightful excitement, 
can dance, and jump, and shout. 

“ Miss Campbell’s coming to-day — joy, joy ! ” ex- 
claimed one or two of the little girls. 

“ Miss Campbell is coming, hurrah, hurrah ! ” sang 
Jack to the tune irresistibly suggested by the words, 

% 


109 


110 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


and others joining in the chorus, till the next boy 
created a diversion by starting the rival air of — 

“ Home for the holidays here we be, 

Out of the clutches of LL.D.” 

44 ’Tisn’t home for the holidays,” objected the 
smallest girl but one. 44 Miss Campbell’s never 
going to school no more. Her’s coming home for 
all-a-ways.” 

But in defiance of her remonstrance, the stirring 
strains continued, till suddenly through the clamour 
a tiny shrill voice made itself heard. 

44 Let Towzer sing, let Towzer sing,” it pleaded. 
44 Towzer wants to sing all be-lone.” 

There was a rush in the three-year-old baby’s 
direction. 

44 Sing, of course she shall, the darling ! ” cried 
Maggie, the 44 Jack-in-th e-middle ” of the five little 
sisters, and the first to reach the small aspirant to 
vocal honours. 44 She shall stand on the table,” she 
continued, struggling breathlessly with 44 Towzer,” as 
she tried to lift her in her arms, 44 and — ” 

44 Out of the way, Maggie. Out of the way, 
Flop!” shouted Jack, charging down ruthlessly on 
to the little girls, sending Maggie to the right-about 
and Flop to the left. 44 You are not to try to lift 
Towzer, Maggie ; mother has said so, ever so many 
times. You’ll be dropping her and smashing her to 
pieces some day, the way you smashed Lady Rosa- 


THE MISSING BON-BONS. 


Ill 


linda — you’re far too little. There now, Towzer, 
my pet,” as he safely established her * on the sturdy 
wooden table ; “ sing, and we’ll all clap.” 

Maggie retreated resentfully, muttering as she did 
so, “I’m not little — I’m seven; and Towzer isn’t 
made of wax.” 

“ Silence,” shouted Jack, and the baby began her 
song. 

“ Miss Tammel are coming out of L.D.,” she began. 
Shouts of laughter. 

“ Go on, darling ; that’s beautiful. Clap, clap, 
can’t you ! She thinks we’re laughing at her,” said 
Jack, the latter part of his speech an “aside ” to the 
audience. 

But it was too late ; Towzer’s feelings were deeply 
wounded. 

“ Towzer won’t sing no more, naughty Jack, and 
naughty Patty, and Edith, and naughty all boys and 
girls to laugh at Towzer,” she cried, her very blue 
eyes filling with tears. She was such a pretty little 
girl, “ fair, fair, with ” not “ golden,” I should rather 
say, “ silvern hair,” so very pale were the soft silky 
locks that clustered round her little head. How she 
ever came to be called “ Towzer,” her real name being 
Angela, would have puzzled any one unused to the 
extraordinary things invented by children’s brains, 
and the queer grotesque charm which the “ rule of 
contrary,” especially as applied to nicknames, seems 
to possess for them. 


112 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


Towzer’s tears flowed piteously; everybody at 
once was trying to console her, and poor Towzer was 
all but suffocated among them, when there came a 
sudden interruption — a maid servant appeared at 
the door. 

“Master Ja*ck and Master Max,” she said as soon 
as she could make herself heard, “ your mamma 
wished me to say as she hoped you were remember- 
ing about finishing your lessons early, for Miss 
Campbell’s train is due at Stapleham at five, and 
your papa’s ordered the carriage at four, and will 
be annoyed if you’re not ready. And Miss Patty, I 
was to say,” she was continuing, when suddenly she 
caught sight of “ the baby ” still on the table, in a 
sad state of crush and discomposure, as, Jack and 
Max having already rushed off, all the remaining 
children were fighting for her possession. “Now 
that is too bad, I do declare ! What are you all 
pulling and dragging at the dear child for ? Making 
her cry, too. Miss Maggie, you’ve been teasing 
her, I’m certain — you’re always in mischief. I’m 
sure I don’t know whatever nurse will say — Miss 
Hangela’s frock just clean on ! I’m sure I hope Miss 
Campbell will keep you in better order, I do; for 
since your mamma’s been ill, it’s just dreadful the 
way you go on.” 

“ I didn’t make her cry,” “ And I’m sure I didn’t,” 
cried Patty and Edith at once. 

“ Then it’s Miss Maggie, as usual ; you come too, 


THE MISSING BON-BONS. 


113 


Miss Florence,” said Dawson, as she walked off with 
the rescued Towzer in her arms and Flop at her 
heels, taking no notice of Maggie’s indignant ex- 
clamation — 44 You’re a nasty, horrid, cross thing, 
Dawson ! and I only hope Miss Campbell will set 
you down when she comes.” 

Great things were evidently expected of 44 Miss 
Campbell,” and by no one in the house was her return 
looked for more eagerly than by her invalid mother, 
who had of late found the care of her many boys and 
girls, weigh heavily on her. F or this reason Eleanor, 
the eldest daughter of the family, a girl of seventeen, 
had been recalled from a school in Paris sooner than 
would otherwise have been the case, and it was her 
expected arrival this very evening that had caused 
all the playroom commotion. It was a year, fully a 
year, since she had been at home, and it was no won- 
der that all her brothers and sisters rejoiced at her 
return, for she was kind and unselfish, bright and 
merry, and the old Manor House without her had 
lost half its sunshine. 

Five o’clock — all the children are already at the 
windows, some at the door, though 44 she cannot be 
here till six or half-past,” says mamma; and nurse 
valiantly refuses to put on Towzer’s second clean 
frock for another hour at least. 

Six o’clock at last — five minutes, ten minutes, a 
quarter past — oh, how slowly the time goes ! At last 
wheels, unmistakable wheels up the drive ! Jack’s 


114 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


head poked ever so far out of the carriage window 
on one side, and Max’s on the other. A general 
shriek, “ They’ve come ! they’ve come ! ” and in 
another minute Eleanor is in her mother’s arms, to 
be released from them only to be hugged and re- 
hugged and hugged again ; while from every direc- 
tion comes the cry, “ Miss Campbell has come, dear 
Miss Campbell.” “ Miss Tammel are turn, dear Miss 
Tammel.” 

At last they are all in bed — Jack, Max, Harry, 
Chris, Patty, Edith, Maggie, Flop, and Towzer ; and 
Miss Campbell is free to sit quietly beside her 
mother’s sofa, with her soft thin hands in hers. 

“ Oh, dear Eleanor, how nice it is to have you 
home again ! ” 

“ Oh, dear mamma, how nice it is to be at home 
again ! ” 

Then they talked together of many things — of 
Eleanor’s school-life and friends, of all that had 
happened at home while she was away, of all the 
girl hoped to do to help her mother. 

“I shall be so thankful if you do not find the 
children too much for you,” said Mrs. Campbell. 
“ You see, Miss Fanshawe is excellent as a daily 
governess, but she could not possibly stay here 
altogether, on account of her invalid father; if only 
it is not putting too much on you, my darling,” she 
added anxiously. 


THE MISSING BON-BONS. 


115 


Eleanor stooped over and kissed her mother. 

“Don’t fear, dear; I may make mistakes, but I 
shall learn. They are dear children; how funny it 
is how my old name for myself has clung to me ! I 
could fancy myself a baby again when I heard that 
tiny Towzer calling me 4 Miss Tammel.’ ” 

“You will never get them to call you anything 
else,” said her mother. “ It must sound rather odd 
to strangers.” 

“ And at school I was always Eleanor ! But how 
glad I am to be 4 Miss Tammel ’ again. I have 
brought some small presents for the children,” she 
went on ; 44 books for Patty and Edith, and dolls for 
the three little ones and a few bon-bons — not many, 
but coming from Paris I thought they would expect 
some. There are two little boxes exactly alike for 
Flop and Towzer, and a rather larger one for Maggie. 
So there will be no excuse for squabbling.” 

44 No ; that will be very nice. Poor Maggie,” said 
Mrs. Campbell ; 44 1 fear you will find her the most 
troublesome. She is an 4 odd ’ one ; perhaps that has 
to do with it, but somehow she seems always getting 
into scrapes, and I fancy the others are a little sharp 
on her. She has a queer temper, but she is a very 
clever child.” 

44 She is honest and truthful, however, is she not ? ” 
said Eleanor. “I can stand anything if a child is 
that; but deceitfulness — ” Her fair young brow 
contracted, and a slightly hard expression came over 
her face. 


116 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


“ I hope so,” said her mother ; “ I have no reason 
to think otherwise. But she has an extraordinary 
vivid imagination, and she is curiously impressionable 
— the sort of child that might be worked upon to 
imagine what was not true.” 

“ Still truth is truth. There can be no excuse for 
a falsehood,” said Eleanor. 

“Mother is too indulgent and gentle in some ways,” 
she thought. “ I must look after Maggie, and be firm 
with her.” 

“ But gentleness encourages truth, where severity 
might crush it,” said her mother softly, as if she had 
heard Eleanor’s unspoken words. 

Miss Campbell made no reply, but she pressed her 
mother’s hand. 

“And the day after to-morrow, mother dear, you 
will be leaving us ! ” she said regretfully. 

“Yes, but only for a month; and now that you 
are here, your father and I can leave with such 
lightened hearts. I feel sure that the change to St. 
Abbots will do me good now,” replied Mrs. Campbell 
cheerfully. 


Chapter II. 

To-morrow — the first part of it' at least — found 
the excitement scarcely less great than on the day of 
Miss Campbell’s arrival. For there were the pres- 
ents to distribute ! A delightful business to all 


THE MISSING BON-BONS. 


117 


concerned, as Eleanor had invariably succeeded in 
choosing “ just what I wanted more than anything,” 
and the hugs she had again to submit to were really 
alarming, both as to quantity and quality. And among 
all the children none hugged her more than Maggie. 

“It’s like Santa Claus morning — goodies too,” she 
exclaimed, dancing about in delight. 

“ Don’t talk nonsense, you silly child,” said Patty, 
who was of a prosaic and literal turn of mind. “ You 
wouldn’t believe, Miss Campbell,” she went on, turn- 
ing to her elder sister, “ would you, that Maggie last 
Christmas went and told Flop that Santa Claus was 
a real old man, and that he really came down the 
chimney, and poor Flop wakened in the night, quite 
frightened — screaming — and so mamma said Maggie 
was never to speak about Santa Claus again, and 
you are doing so, Maggie,” she wound up with, 
virtuously. 

“ But it’s so pretty about Santa Claus, and so 
funny, isn’t it, Miss Campbell ? ” said Maggie, peer- 
ing up into Eleanor’s face with her bright, restless, 
gray-green eyes. 

“Nothing can be funny or pretty that mamma tells 
you not to talk about, Maggie,” said Miss Campbell. 

“ Oh no ; I know that, and I didn’t mean to speak 
of it again. But except for that — if Flop hadn’t got 
frightened, it would he nice, wouldn’t it? I have 
such a lot of fairies all my own, and I wanted Flop 
to have some, and she wouldn’t.” 


118 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


“ She was very wise ; and I think, Maggie, you 
might find some better things to amuse yourself with 
than such fancies,” said Eleanor rather severely. 

Maggie’s face fell. 

“ I’m always naughty,” she whispered to herself. 
“ Even Miss Campbell thinks me so already, and I’m 
sure fairies teach me to be good.” 

In her vague childish way she had been looking 
forward to full sympathy from her eldest sister, and 
her hard tone disconcerted her. 

“ Now run off, dears, quickly,” said Eleanor ; 
“ you’ve got your goodies safe.” 

Off they trotted, Towzer’s little fat hands clasping 
tight her treasures. 

“ Dollies and doodies ; Towzer and Flop dot just 
the same,” she said with delight to nurse when they 
reached their own domain. 

“And don’t you think, dearie, you’d better let 
nurse keep the goodies for you? See here, dears,” 
said nurse to the two little girls, “ we’ll put both 
boxes up on the high chest of drawers, where they’ll 
be quite safe, and you shall have some every day. 
Shall we finish Miss Flop’s first and then Miss 
Baby’s? It’ll keep them fresher, not to have one 
box opened till the other’s done. Miss Maggie, I 
suppose you’ll keep your own ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Maggie ; and so it was arranged. 

“ I’ll keep mine till my birthday, and then I’ll 
have a fairy feast, and invite Flop and Towzer,” was 


THE MISSING BON-BONS. 


119 


Maggie’s secret determination, which, however, she 
communicated to no one. And though she spent a 
great part of her playtime unobserved in arranging 
and rearranging the pretty bon-bons, not one found 
its way to her mouth. Her birthday was to be in a 
fortnight. 

The next day Mr. and Mrs. Campbell left home, 
and Eleanor’s reign began ; auspiciously enough to 
all appearance. 

“You’ll be gentle with them all, dear, especially 
Maggie ; they have not been under regular discipline 
for some time, you know ? ” said Mrs. Campbell as she 
kissed Eleanor. 

“ Of course, mamma dear ; can’t you trust me ? ” 
was the reply, with the slightest touch of reproach ; 
and to herself the girl whispered, “Real kindness 
and gentleness are not incompatible with firmness, 
however.” 

On the fourth day the calm was interrupted. 
Eleanor had just returned from a drive to Stapleham, 
to fetch the afternoon letters, when she was seized 
upon by Patty and Edith in hot indignation. 

“ Miss Campbell ! Miss Campbell ! ” they cried. 
“ What do you think that naughty, greedy, mean 
Maggie has done ? She’s stolen poor Towzer’s 
goodies — all of them — at least, half — the box was 
half full, nurse says, and though nurse all but saw 
her, she will say she didn’t take them, and there was 
no one else in the night nursery this afternoon. 


120 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


Maggie was left in alone for half an hour, because 
she had a little cold, and when *nurse and the little 
ones came in Towzer’s box was gone.” 

Eleanor leant on the hall table for a moment. A 
sick faint feeling went through her. Maggie, her 
own sister, to be capable of such a thing ! To her 
rigorous inexperience it seemed terrible. The idea 
that taking what was not one’s own and then deny- 
ing it was hardly, at seven years old, to be described 
by the terms such actions on the part of an older 
person would deserve, would have seemed to her 
weak tampering with evil. 

“Oh, Patty,” she exclaimed, “are you sure?” 

“Come up and see for yourself. Nurse will tell 
you,” said the twins, too eagerly indignant to notice 
or pity their sister’s distress ; and Eleanor followed 
their advice. 

The charge seemed sadly well founded. Nurse 
described the position of the boxes. 

“ Up on the high chest of drawers, where none of 
the littler ones than Miss Maggie could climb,” she 
said. Flop’s was empty, Towzer’s still half full, 
when they went out that afternoon, and nurse return- 
ing unexpectedly, had caught sight of Maggie run- 
ning out of the night nursery — “ where she had no 
business to be. I had told her to stay in the other 
room by the fire, and there’s nothing of hers in 
there; for you know, miss, she sleeps in Miss 
Patty’s room.” 


THE MISSING BON-BONS. 


121 


44 And what reason did she give for being there ? ” 

“ She got very red, miss, and at first wouldn’t say 
anything ; but I saw she had been clambering up — 
a chair was dragged out of its place — and so then 
she said it was to stretch out of the window to 
gather some of the ivy leaves to ornament her goodies. 
And I was that silly, I believed her,” said nurse, with 
considerable self-disgust. 

“ You didn’t look at the bon-bons then ? ” 

44 Never thought of them, miss, till we came in, and 
the little ones asked for some, and I reached up and 
found only the one box, and that empty.” 

“And you’ve looked all about? You’re sure it 
hasn’t fallen down ? ” 

44 Oh dear, no ! Of course I looked everywhere. 
Besides, I saw Miss Maggie after something in 
there,” said nurse conclusively, 44 and my parasol that 
always lies on the drawers was on the floor when I 
came in.” 

44 Maggie,” said Eleanor, 44 do you hear that? You 
must have climbed up to the drawers.” 

44 Yes,” said Maggie ; 44 I did.” 

Eleanor breathed more freely. 

44 What for?” 

Maggie hesitated. 

44 1 wanted the parasol to hook the leaves,” she 
said ; 44 1 saw it when I stood on the chair.” 

44 Patty,” said Eleanor, 44 go and see if there are 
any leaves on Maggie’s goodies.” 


122 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


Patty returned. No, there were none. 

“Well, Maggie ? ” said Eleanor. 

“ I know there aren’t. I didn’t get them. Nurse 
scolded me, and I didn’t like to go back to get them.” 

“Was she near the window when you saw her, 
nurse ? ” 

“ No, miss ; she was nearer to the drawers, and so 
was the chair.” 

“ Yes,” said Maggie, “ I was getting the parasol.” 

Eleanor said no more, but, rather to nurse’s 
annoyance, went herself to the night nursery and 
thoroughly examined it. There was no trace of the 
lost bon-bons. 

“ And supposing she has eaten the bon-bons, where 
is the box ? ” she said. 

“ She may have thrown it in the fire ; very likely 
she didn’t mean to keep the box. She may have 
slipped it into her pocket in a fright,” said nurse. 
But no trace of it was now to be seen in Maggie’s 
pocket. 

“Maggie,” said Eleanor, “I cannot send you to 
your room on account of your cold. But no one is to 
speak to you till you confess all. I shall ask you 
again at bedtime, and I trust you will then speak 
the truth. Now Patty, and Edith, and Flop, remem- 
ber Maggie’s not to be spoken to.” 

“ Nasty greedy thing ; and not one of her own 
goodies eaten,” muttered Patty. “I’m sure no one 
will want to speak to her.” 





















* 

























. 






' 































THE MISSING BON-BONS. 


123 


“ Hush, Patty. Don’t cry, Towzer darling,” said 
Eleanor, for poor Towzer was sobbing bitterly, though 
her grief was inconsistent in its objects. 

“No doodies, and poor Maggie ! ” was her lament. 

To divert her 44 Miss Tammel ” carried her off to 
the drawing-room. And thus Maggie was sent to 
Coventry. 

By bedtime her features were hardly to be recog- 
nised, so blurred and swollen with crying was the 
poor little face. But still there was no confession. 
44 1 didn’t touch Towzer’s goodies,” she persisted over 
and over again. Eleanor’s heart ached, but still duty 
must be done. 

44 How can she persist so ? ” she said, turning to 
nurse. 

44 Yes indeed, Miss Maggie, how can you ? ” said 
nurse. “It would almost make one believe her if 
there was a chance of it, but I’ve had every bit of 
furniture out of the room, or turned about just to 
make sure. Miss Maggie’s a queer child, once she 
takes a thing into her head ; but she’s not exactly 
obstinate either.” 

So Maggie, 44 unshriven and unforgiven,” was put 
to bed in her misery, with no kind kiss or loving 
44 good-night.” “ If she would but own to it, dread- 
ful though it is,” sighed Eleanor. But two days — 
two days, and, worse still, two nights — went by, and 
still the child held out. Eleanor herself began to 
feel quite ill, and Maggie grew like a little ghost. 


124 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


Her character seemed to have changed strangely — 
she flew into no passions, and called no one any 
names; apparently she felt no resentment, only 
misery. But how terribly crushing was the Pariah- 
like life she led in the nursery, probably none of 
those about her had the least idea of. On the third 
morning there came a change. 

44 Miss Campbell ! Miss Campbell ! ” said Patty 
and Edith, slipping with bare feet and night-gowned 
little figures into their sister’s room — quite against 
orders, but it was a great occasion — “ wake up, wake 
up, Maggie’s confessed ! ” 

And so it proved. There sat Maggie upright in 
her cot, with flushed face and excited eyes. 

“ I took them, Miss Campbell. I did take Towzer’s 
goodies, and eatened them up.” 

Eleanor sat down on the side of the little bed. 

44 Oh, Maggie ! ” she said reproachfully. 44 How 
could you ! But, still more, how could you deny it so 
often ? ” 

Maggie looked at her bewilderedly, then meeting 
the stern reproach in her sister’s eyes, hid her face in 
the bed-clothes while she murmured something about 
not having remembered before. 

44 Hush ! ” said Eleanor, 44 don’t make things worse 
by false excuses.” 

44 Make her tell all about it,” whispered Patty. 

44 No,” said Eleanor; 44 it would only tempt her to 
invent palliations. It is miserable enough — I don’t 
want to hear any more.” 


THE MISSING BON-BONS. 


125 


What “ palliations ” were, to Patty was by no 
means clear. 

“ At least,” she persisted, “ yon might ask her what 
she did with the box.” 

Maggie caught the words. 

“I didn’t touch the box,” she said, “only the 
goodies.” 

“ Oh, what a story ! ” exclaimed the twins. 

“Be quiet, children ; I will not have any more 
said. Don’t you see what it will lead her into,” said 
Eleanor. 

But some of her old spirit seemed to have returned 
to Maggie. Her eyes sparkled with eagerness as she 
repeated, “ I didn’t touch the box ; no, I never did. 
Only the goodies.” 

“Maggie, you are to say no more, but listen to 
me,” said Eleanor. Then sending Patty and Edith 
away, she spoke to the culprit as earnestly as she 
knew how of the sin of which she had been guilty, 
ending by making her repeat after her a few simple 
words of prayer for pardon. All this Maggie received 
submissively, only whispering, as if to herself, “ But 
I do think God might have made me remember be- 
fore ! ” which remark Eleanor judged it best to ignore. 
Then she kissed Maggie, and the child clung to her 
affectionately. But still Eleanor could not feel satis- 
fied ; there was a dreamy vagueness about the little 
girl, a want, it seemed to Eleanor, of realising her 
fault to the full, which puzzled and perplexed her. 


126 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


Still Maggie was restored to favour, and in a day or 
two seemed much the same as usual, even flying into 
a passion when, contrary to Eleanor’s order, the sub- 
ject was alluded to in the nursery and curiosity ex- 
pressed as to what had become of the box. “ I don’t 
mind you saying I took the goodies,” she said. “ I 
did ; but I never touched the box.” 

A week, ten days, went by. It was the evening 
before Maggie’s birthday. All the children were in 
bed, Jack and Max at their lessons in their own 
room, when a tap came at the door of the library, 
where Miss Campbell was sitting alone, and in an- 
swer to her “come in,” nurse entered. She looked 
pale and discomposed. Eleanor could almost have 
fancied she had been crying. 

“ What is the matter ? ” she exclaimed. 

“ This, Miss Campbell, this is the matter,” said 
nurse, laying a little box on the table ; “ and, oh ! 
when I think what that poor child suffered, I feel as 
if I could never forgive myself.” 

“ Flop’s box ! ” said Eleanor, bewildered ; “ it can’t 
be — surely it is Towzer’s — and,” as she opened it, 
“ half full of bon-bons ! ” 

“Yes, miss; just as it was left.” 

“And Maggie never touched them?” 

“ Never touched them, miss,” said nurse solemnly. 
Then she explained. A dressmaker from the neigh- 
bouring town had been in the nursery the day the 
bon-bons were missed, fitting nurse in the very room 


THE MISSING BON-BONS. 


127 


where they were. And on this person’s return home, 
she had found the little box among the folds of the 
material. “ I remember tossing a lot of things up on 
to the drawers to be out of the way, because Miss 
Baby would climb on to my bed, where they were, 
and I thought she would crush them,” said nurse ; 
“and Miss Weaver never thought it of any conse- 
quence, or she would have brought it before. It’s a 
long walk from Stapleham, and she knew she would 
be coming in a few days with my new dress, so 
thought it wouldn’t matter.” 

Nurse was so genuinely distressed that Eleanor 
could not find it in her heart to say anything to add 
to her trouble. Besides, how could she, of all others, 
do so? 

“ I,” she reflected, “ with mamma’s warning in my 
ears. Ah yes, I see now what she meant by Mag- 
gie’s impressionableness, and imaginativeness, and 
the tender treatment she needs.” 

The next day Eleanor herself told Maggie of the 
discovery, and showed her the box. For a moment 
an expression of extreme perplexity clouded the 
child’s face. Then like a sudden ray of sunshine, 
light broke over it. 

“ I know, Miss Campbell ! ” she exclaimed, “ I 
know how it was. I thinkened and thinkened so 
much about it that at last I dreamed it. But only 
about the goodies, not the box. So I didn’t tell a 
story, did I, Miss Campbell ? Dreams aren’t stories.” . 


128 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


“No, darling. And will yon forgive me for doubt- 
ing you ? ” said Eleanor. 

“ But liow could you help it, Miss Campbell, dear 
Miss Campbell ? ” cried Maggie, without a touch of 
resentment. 

So Maggie was cleared, and the new sympathy 
with her, born of this grievous mistake, never failed 
her on the part of her eldest sister; and Maggie’s 
temper and odd ways gradually softened down into 
no worse things than unusual energy and very de- 
cided talent. She became undoubtedly the “ clever 
woman of the family,” but as her heart expanded 
with her head, Eleanor had good reason to feel 
happy pride in her young sister. And when the 
mother came home, after a month’s absence, to find 
all prospering under Miss Campbell’s care, and 
Eleanor felt free to tell her all that happened — 
which by letter, for fear of troubling her, she had 
refrained from doing — she felt that her one mis- 
giving as to her eldest daughter’s influence over 
the younger ones was removed. The lesson of the 
missing bon-bons would never be forgotten. Poor 
Maggie’s three days of suffering had not been in 


vain. 


LOST ROLLO. 


Chapter I. 

Ever since Persis and I were quite little there was 
one thing we longed for more than anything else. I 
think most children have some great wish, or fancy, 
perhaps grown-up people would call it, like that. 
But with many it changes, especially of course if 
they get the thing — then they set to work longing 
and planning for something else. But Persis and I 
didn’t change — not even when we got it, or thought 
we had got it, for good. We wished for it for so long 
that it really seemed to grow with us ; the older and 
bigger we grew, the stronger and bigger our wish 
seemed to grow. We were only seven and five — 
that sounds rather awkward, but I don’t see how else 
to put it, for Persis is a girl, so I must put her age 
first! — she was seven and I was five (that sounds 
better), when we first began wishing for it. It was 
a story that first put it into our heads, and after that, 
nearly every story we read or heard seemed to have 
to do with it somehow, and to put it still more into 
them. And we were — I mean to say Persis was 
eleven, and I was nine when what we thought was 
going to be the fulfilment of our wish came. That 
129 


130 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


was really a long time. Four years — four summers 
and winters and autumns and springs — to keep on 
thinking about a thing and wishing for it ! 

I have not yet said what it was we wished for so 
much. It was to have a dog of our very own. Not 
a stupid little dog, though even that would perhaps 
have been better than. nothing, but a great beautiful 
big dog. We did change about a little, as to the 
exact kind we wished for most, but that was partly 
because at first we didn’t understand very well about 
all the sorts of big dogs there are, and whatever kind 
we happened to read about or see a picture of, we 
fancied would be the nicest. But in the end we- 
came back pretty near to what we had begun with. 
We settled that we would like a collie best of all, 
because they are so faithful and intelligent, and as 
the dog in the story which had made us think of it 
first was a sheep-dog. That was almost the same 
thing, for though all sheep-dogs are not collies, all 
collies are sheep-dogs. 

It was two years ago that it all happened. I am 
eleven now, and Persis of course is thirteen, as she 
is two years older. That year we didn’t know where 
we were to go to for the holidays. Papa is a lawyer ; 
I can’t exactly tell you what kind of a lawyer, but 
I think he is rather a grand one, for he is always 
very busy, and I know he can’t do half what people 
want him to do, though there are many lawyers in 
London who have very little indeed to do, mamma 


LOST KOLLO. 


131 


says. I always think it is such a pity papa can’t 
give them some of his work, isn’t it? But with 
being so busy, of course he gets very few holidays, 
and sometimes he can’t tell till just the day or so be- 
fore whether he will be able to go away or not. 
And mamma doesn’t like to go without him, so two 
or three times we children have had to be sent away 
alone with our governess and Eliza the schoolroom 
maid, and we don’t like that at all. 

It was getting very near the holidays, already the 
middle of July, and though we had several times 
asked mamma where we were going, she had never 
been able to tell us, and at last she got tired of our 
asking, and said in her rather vexed voice — she has 
a vexed voice, and a very vexed voice as well, but 
when it isn’t as bad as either of these we call it her 
“ rather vexed ” voice. 

“ Persis and Archie, I wish you would not ask the 
same thing so often. When I have anything to tell 
you I promise you I will do so at once.” 

Then we promised we would not tease her about it 
any more, though we could not help talking about it 
a good deal to ourselves. 

“ I’m afraid we’re going to be sent with Miss Ellis 
and Eliza like last year,” I said. 

“It’ll, be too bad — two years running,” Persis 
replied. “ But it wouldn’t be nearly so bad if we 
had a dog, would it, Archie ? Miss Ellis couldn’t be 
so frightened then of going nice long walks. But 


132 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


it’s no use thinking about it. Mamma will never let 
us have one, I’m afraid. ” 

For though mamma is very kind to animals — she 
wouldn’t hurt any creature for the world, and she 
doesn’t even like killing a wasp — she does not care 
much about pets, particularly not in town. She 
always says they are not happy except in the country. 
At least she used to say so. I think she has rather 
changed her opinion now. 

“No,” I said, sighing; “I’m afraid it’s best to try 
to leave off thinking about it. We have thought 
about it such a long time, Persis.” 

But I don’t think our fixing not to think any 
more about it really did make us leave off doing so. 
The only sensible way of putting a thing out of your 
head is by putting something else there instead, and 
this happened to us just then, though it didn’t make 
us really forget about our dog for good, of course. 

One morning, about a week after the day she had 
told us we weren’t to tease any more, mamma called 
us into the drawing-room. 

“ Persis and Archie,” she said, “ I promised I would 
tell you as soon as I knew myself about going to the 
country. And you have been good children in not 
teasing again about it. So I am pleased to have 
good news for you. We are going next week to a 
lovely place where you have never been before. It 
is on the borders of Wildmoor — that beautiful great 
moor where I used sometimes to go when I was little. 


LOST HOLLO. 


133 


There are lovely walks, and it is quite country, so I 
hope you will be very happy there.” 

“ And we are all going — you and papa too ? ” we 
said. 

“Yes, all” mamma answered, smiling. “Would 
you rather have gone without us ? ” 

Of course she only said that to tease us — she 
knew quite well we wouldn’t. And of course we 
both jumped up and hugged her and told her she 
was a very naughty little mamma to speak like that. 

“We like Miss Ellis very well, you know, mamma,” 
said Persis, “but still we couldn't like going with her 
as well as with you and papa.” 

“Indeed,” said mamma, “and supposing, justswjt?- 
posing Miss Ellis couldn’t come too, would it spoil 
your pleasure very much ? ” 

We looked rather grave at this, for we hardly 
knew what to answer. It seemed unkind to say we 
should not much mind, for Miss Ellis is really very 
kind, especially when we are left alone with her. 
But yet it wouldn’t have been true to say it would 
spoil our pleasure, and if you children are real chil- 
dren who read this, or even if you are big people who 
haven’t forgotten about being children, you will 
know how nice it is sometimes to get quite away 
from lessons and lesson-books, and as it were to 
forget all about them — to be something like lambs, 
or squirrels, or rabbits, in one’s feelings, just thinking 
about nothing except how lovely the sunshine is, 


134 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


and the grass, and the trees, and being alive alto- 
gether. And I don’t think it does us any harm, for 
afterwards, 1 think it makes us like lessons better 
again, when we come back to them, partly because 
it’s a change, and partly too because after so much 
play, the least we can do is to try to work well. But 
still it seemed unkind to Miss Ellis to say we 
wouldn’t mind. 

At last Persis, who generally thinks of the right 
thing to say, looked up brightly. 

“ If Miss Ellis herself didn’t mind, and was perhaps 
going to see her own friends and be very happy, then 
we wouldn’t mind, mamma.” 

Mamma smiled. 

“ That’s right, Persis, and that’s just how it is. Miss 
Ellis is going to have a holiday, so you and Archie 
may enjoy your own holiday with clear consciences.” 

We were awfully glad after that. Everything 
seemed right. 

“If only” I said, “ we had our dog, Bruno, Persis.” 

For we had given our fancy dog a name, and spoke 
of him as if he really lived. 

“Hush, Archie,” said Persis, “you promised to 
leave off thinking about him. It seems greedy to 
want everything. Just fancy what we have com- 
pared with poor children. Lots of them don’t even 
have one single day in the country, Archie,” which 
made me feel rather ashamed of wishing for anything 
more. It was good of Persis to put it that way. 


LOST HOLLO. 


185 


Chapter II. 

We were to go to Wildmoor the very next week, 
but still it seemed a long time off. If it hadn’t been 
for the packing, I don’t know how we’d have got 
over the time, for Miss Ellis’s holiday began almost 
immediately, and we hadn’t anything to do. Only 
Eliza was to go with us, as there were to be servants 
left in the house we were going to, but of course we 
were very glad she was coming, as we liked her to 
go out walks with us ; she let us do whatever we 
took into our heads. 

It was a nice day, though rather too hot to be 
pleasant for travelling, when we at last started for 
Wildmoor. It wasn’t a very long journey, however, 
only about three hours in the railway, and the nicest 
part came at the end. That was a drive of nearly 
six miles. Persis and I don’t count driving as 
travelling at all, and this drive was perfectly lovely. 
Papa had ordered a sort of covered waggonette to 
meet us at the station, and as it was a very fine 
evening he let us two go outside beside the coach- 
man, and he went inside with mamma and Eliza, 
though I’m sure he’d much rather have been on the 
box. For some way the road was very pretty, but 
just something like other country roads. But after 
going about two miles or so we got on to the moor, 
and then it just was lovely. We had never seen 


136 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


moorland before, and the air was so fresh and breezy, 
Persis said it made her think of the sea. Indeed, I 
think a great big moor, a very big one, is rather like 
a rough sea ; the ground is all ups and downs like 
big waves, and when you look far on you could 
almost fancy the green ridges were beginning to 
heave and roll about. 

“Won’t we have lovely walks here, Archie?” 
said Persis, and “I should just think we would,” I 
answered. 

And after a bit it grew even prettier; the sun 
began to set, and all the colours came out in the 
sky, and even the ground below seemed all burning 
and glowing too. I never have seen any sunsets so 
beautiful as those on the moor, and of course we 
remember this one the best as it was the first we 
saw. 

Just as it was fading off into gray we turned 
sharply to the left, leaving the moor, and after five 
minutes’ driving down a lane, we drew up at the 
door of the little house that was to be our home for 
the next few weeks. It was a dear little house, just 
exactly what we had wished for. It had a good 
many creepers over the walls, roses and honeysuckle 
and clematis, and the garden was beautifully neat. 
And inside there was a tiny dining-room and a rather 
bigger drawing-room, and upstairs three or four very 
neat bedrooms, besides those for the servants. Persis 
and I had two little white rooms side by side. There 


LOST ROLLO. 


137 


were white curtains to the beds and to the windows, 
and the furniture was light-coloured wood, so they 
really looked white all over. 

That first evening we thought most of the dining- 
room, or rather of the tea that was spread out for us 
there. For we were so very hungry, and the things 
to eat were so very good, and quite a change from 
London. There were such very nice home-made 
bread, and tea-cakes, and honey — honey is never so 
good as in moor country, you know, it has quite a 
different taste. 

And when we had eaten, if not quite as much as 
we could , anyway quite as much as was good for us, 
we went a little turn round the garden while Eliza 
was getting our trunks open, and then we said good- 
night to papa and mamma and went to bed as happy, 
or almost as happy, as we could be. There was just 
one thought in both our minds that prevented our 
being quite happy, but we had fixed not to speak 
about it. 

The next day and the days that followed were de- 
lightful. The weather kept fine and the walks were 
endless. Papa enjoyed it as much as we did. He 
took us out himself, and when it was not to be a 
very, very long walk, mamma came too. Once or 
twice we carried our dinner with us and didn’t come 
home till evening, and several times we had tea on 
the moor near our house. 

After about a week papa told us one evening that 


138 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


he had to go to London the next day to stay one 
night. He had ordered a carriage to come to take 
him to the station early, and he said if it was fine 
Persis and I and Eliza might drive with him and 
walk back across the moor, if we didn’t think we’d 
be tired. Of course we didn’t, and though we were 
sorry for him to go, we liked the idea of the drive. 
And as the morning did turn out fine, it all happened 
as he had planned. We saw him off, and then we 
started for our walk back. We had never been at 
this side of the moor since the day we arrived, and 
papa told us we might vary the walk by going down 
a lane that skirted it for some way . 

“ There is a farmhouse there,” he said, “ where I 
dare say they would give you some milk if you are 
thirsty.” 

We thought it a very good idea, and after going 
about half a mile down the lane we came upon the 
farmhouse just as he had said. A little girl was 
feeding some chickens just in front, and when we 
asked her if we could have a cup of milk, she said 
she would run in and see. While we were waiting 
we heard a voice, a laughing merry voice it sounded, 
calling out in a sort of orchard close by — 

“ Down, Rollo, down — oh, you naughty old dog,” 
it said. 

Just then the little girl came out to ask Eliza if 
she’d mind coming in to fetch the milk, as she 
couldn’t carry both the jug and the cups. Eliza 


LOST ROLLO. 


139 


went in, and I suppose she stayed chatting to the 
farmer’s wife, who, she told us afterwards, was busy 
churning, for she was certainly five minutes gone. 
While she was away, the gate into the orchard 
opened and a girl — not a little girl, but a grown-up 
young lady — came running out, followed by a beau- 
tiful big dog. He was really a splendid fellow, and 
as she ran, he ran, half jumping against her — I 
think she had something in her hand he wanted to 
get — and again we heard the laughing voice call out — 

“Down, Rollo — you naughty old fellow. You’ll 
knock me over if you don’t take care, you great, 
clumsy darling.” 

They rushed across the road — the girl and the dog 
— and down a little lane just opposite. They were 
gone like a flash, but we did, at least I did see them, 
the dog especially, quite clearly. Afterwards I tried 
to fancy I hadn’t, but that was not true. I did see 
the dog perfectly. 

I turned to Persis. 

u Did you ever see such a beauty ? ” I said. But 
just then Eliza came out with the milk, and we 
didn’t say any more about the dog. We both kept 
thinking about it all the way home, I know, but 
somehow we didn’t care to talk about it before Eliza. 
The wish for a dog of our own had become such a 
very deep-down thought in our hearts that we could 
not talk about it easily or lightly — not even to each 
other always. 


140 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


Papa came back from London the next day, but 
mamma was disappointed to hear that he was obliged 
to return there again the end of the week, this time 
to stay two nights. We did not drive with him 
again to the station because it was a wet day, other- 
wise we should have wished it doubly, in the chance 
of having another sight of the beautiful dog. 

It was the very day after papa had gone this sec- 
ond time that a strange thing happened. Persis and 
I were out in the garden rather late in the evening 
before going to bed, and we had just gone a tiny bit 
out into the lane to see if the sky looked red over 
the moor where the sun set, when we heard a sort of 
rushing, pattering sound, and looking round, what 
should be coming banging along towards us, as fast 
as he could, but a great big dog. He stopped when 
he got up to us and began wagging his tail and rub- 
bing his head against us in the sweetest way, and 
then we saw that his tongue was hanging out, and 
that his coat was rough and dusty, and he breathed 
fast and pantingly — he was evidently very tired, 
and, above all, thirsty. I was off for a mug of water 
for him before we said a word, and oh how glad he 
was of it! He really said “Thank you” with his 
tail and his sweet nose as plainly as if he had 
spoken. And he didn’t seem to think of leaving us 
— he was alone, there was no one in sight, and he 
seemed as if he was sure he had found friends in us. 

“He is very like — he is just like — ” Persis began 
at last. But I interrupted her. 



“ TL osr Xollo 

He sloped wben be goT up To u$ ana 
began wagging bis tail and rubbing 
bi5 bead againsT us in The swed gst way 












































LOST ROLLO. 


141 


“ There are lots of dogs like him,” I said. “ He 
is lost — we must take him in for the night. Oh, 
Persis, just fancy — if he is really quite lost, we may 
have to keep him for good. Mamma might perhaps 
let us. Oh, Persis ! ” 

We took him in with us and called to mamma to 
come out to the door to look at him. She saw what 
a beauty he was at once, and stroked his head and 
called him “ poor doggie,” for, as I said, she is always 
kind to animals, though she doesn’t care for pets. 

“ We must take him in for the night anyway,” 
she said. “ Perhaps in the morning we may find out 
where he comes from.” 

There was an empty kennel in the yard, and we 
found some nice clean hay in the hampers that we 
had brought with groceries from London. And the 
cook gave us some scraps and one or two big bones. 
So “ Bruno,” as of course we called him, was made 
very comfortable. 

And you can fancy — no, I really — I don’t think 
you can — the state of excitement in which Persis 
and I went to bed. 


Chapter III. 

We got up very early indeed the next morning, and 
of course we both rushed straight to the yard. We 
had had a dreadful feeling that perhaps somebody 
would have come to claim the dog, and that we 


142 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


should find him gone. But no — there he was, the 
beauty, and as soon as ever he saw us, out he came 
wagging his dear tail and looking as pleased as 
pleased. 

“ Do you see how he knows us already, Archie ? ” 
said Persis. “Isn’t he too sweet? Couldn’t you 
really think the fairies had sent him to be our very 
own ? ” 

We could scarcely eat any breakfast, and the 
moment it was over we dragged mamma out to look 
at him. She was as nearly much taken with him 
as we were, we could see, only she said one thing 
which I wished she hadn’t. 

“ How unhappy his owners must be at having lost 
him ! ” it was. 

And then she began talking about what could be 
done to find them. Persis and I didn’t say anything. 
We wouldn’t speak even to each other about what 
we both knew deep down in our hearts — we wouldn’t 
even think of it. 

Papa was not to be back till the next day. Noth- 
ing could be done till he came, anyway, so all that 
day Persis and I had the full happiness of Bruno. 
He was so good and obedient and seemed so per- 
fectly at home with us, that we even ventured to 
take him out a walk, though not of course a very 
long one. He gambolled over the moor with us, 
seemingly as happy as could be, and the very 
moment we called him back he came. It was won- 


. LOST EOLLO. 


143 


derful how he seemed to know his name, especially 
when we called it out rather long, making the last 
“ o ” sound a good deal — “ Bruwo — 0,” like that, 
you know. Oh, he was so delightful ! All our 
fancies about having a dog seemed nothing compared 
to the reality. 

The next day papa came back. He was almost as 
pleased with Bruno as we were. 

“ Yes,” he said, after looking him well over, “ he 
is a beauty and no mistake. A collie of the very 
best kind. But some one or other must be in trouble 
about him.” 

“ That’s just what I have been saying,” mamma 
put in. “If this weren’t such an out-of-the-way 
place, no doubt we should have seen advertisements 
about him.” 

“ I’ll look in the local papers,” said papa. 

And that evening when we were at tea, he came 
in with a little thin-looking newspaper in his hand, 
which he seemed to be searching all through for 
something. Persis and I shivered, but we didn’t 
dare to say much. 

“Have you been at Local, papa?” I asked. “Is 
it far from here ? ” 

“ Been at where ? ” papa said. “ What in the 
world is the child talking about ? ” 

Papa has rather a sharp way sometimes, but he 
doesn’t mean it, so we don’t mind. 

“ At Local,” I said again, “ the place where you 


144 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


said there was a newspaper. Is it anywhere near the 
station ? ” (I hoped of course it was not, for the 
nearer the station the more likely that the dog 
should be advertised for in the newspaper. You 
know of course what I mean by “ near the station.”) 

To my surprise papa burst out laughing. 

“You little goose,” he said, holding out the paper. 
“ There, look for yourself ; ” and I saw that the name 
of the paper was The Wildmoor G-azette. I was quite 
puzzled, and I suppose my face showed it. 

“ Local,” said papa, “ only means connected with 
the place — with any place. I just meant that I 
would get the newspaper of this place to see if any 
such dog as Bruno was advertised for. But I don’t 
see anything of the kind. I think I must put in an 
advertisement of having found him.” 

“ Oh, papa, you surely won’t ! ” Persis burst out. 

Papa turned upon her with a sort of sharpness 
we did mind this time, for we saw he was quite in 
earnest. 

“ My' dear child,” he said, “ what are you thinking 
of ? It would not be honest not to try to restore the 
dog to those he belongs to. I have already told all 
the neighbours about him.” 

Persis said no more, but she grew very red indeed. 
I think I did too, but I’m not quite sure, and I 
couldn’t ask Persis afterwards, for we had fixed in 
our minds we wouldn’t speak of that thing. I turned 
my face away, however, for fear of papa seeing it. 


LOST HOLLO. 


145 


He would have thought there was something very 
queer the matter if he had seen we were both so 
red. 

That afternoon he went out without saying where 
he was going, but we both felt quite sure he had 
gone about putting that horrid advertisement in the 
paper. And even without that, we knew that if he 
went telling about Bruno to everybody he’d be sure 
to be claimed. The country’s not like town, you see. 
Everybody knows everybody else’s affairs in the 
country. 

We took Bruno out, feeling that we only loved 
him the more for not knowing how soon he might be 
taken from us. We both hugged him and cried over 
him that afternoon, and the dear fellow seemed to 
understand. He looked up in our faces with such 
very “ doggy ” eyes. 

And after that, there never, for some days, came a 
knock at the door, or the sound of a strange voice in 
the kitchen, without our trembling. And we never 
came in from a walk with Bruno without getting 
cold all over at the thought that perhaps some one 
might be waiting for him. 

But nothing of the sort did happen. And time 
went on, till it grew to be nearly three weeks that 
our dear dog had been with us. 

One evening papa came to us in the yard when we 
were saying good-night to Bruno. 

“I suppose you’re getting to think him quite 


146 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


your own,” he said. “It certainly does not seem 
as if he were going to be owned. But what will 
mamma say to taking him home with us — eh, little 
people ? ” 

“ I don’t think she’ll mind,” said Persis. “ She 
loves him too — awfully. And Archie and I are full 
of plans about how to manage him in London.” 

“Ah, indeed,” said papa. “Well, one of the first 
things to be done, it seems to me,” he went on, “ is 
to get him a collar,” and he drew a yard measure out 
of his pocket and measured Bruno’s neck. “ I am 
going up to town to-morrow for two nights,” he then 
told us. “ You two can come to meet me at the 
station when I come back, with Eliza, of course, and 
this fellow, and you shall see what I can get in the 
way of a collar. I’ll tell mamma the train, and you 
can all drive home with me.” 

We thanked papa — it was very kind of him, and 
we said we’d like to go to meet him very much. 
But things seldom turn out as one expects. The 
day papa was to come mamma had to go to the little 
town near the station herself — : something about a 
washerwoman it was — so she ordered a carriage, and 
we drove over with her. W e were all at the station 
together to meet papa, and when he came he had 
brought the loveliest collar for Bruno — with his 
name on, and ours, and our address in London ! 

“ We won’t risk losing him,” papa said. 

Then he asked us if we wouldn’t rather walk 


LOST HOLLO. 


147 


home, and we said we should, as we had driven 
there, and mamma didn’t mind going back alone. 
So we set off, us two and papa. And we were so 
happy and so sure now of Bruno being ours, that we 
didn’t notice that papa took the way down the lane 
that we had been once before. 

We never noticed it, till we were close to the gate 
of the farm — the very farm where we had got milk 
— the very gate where — 

And, just as we got up to it, it opened, and a girl, 
a lady, the very one , came out, not running and jump- 
ing, but walking quite quietly. But when she caught 
sight of us, of Bruno, and when he caught sight of 
her! Oh! He rushed at her, and she threw her 
arms round him. 

“ Oh, my Rollo, my own dear naughty Rollo,” she 
called out, and I believe she was crying. “ Have you 
come back to me at last ? Where have you been ? ” 
And Bruno — our Bruno — went on wagging his 
tail and rubbing his nose on her, and pawing at her, 
just as he had done to us, only more ! 

Persis and I stood stock-still, feeling as if we 
couldn't bear it. 


Chapter IV. 

Papa was the first to speak. The young lady 
went on hugging at Bruno, and taking no notice of 
any of us. Papa looked very grave. I think he 
thought it rather rude of her, even if she was so 


148 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


pleased to find her dog again, for she might have 
seen how well he had been taken care of, and what 
a beautiful new collar he had. Papa waited a min- 
ute or two, and then he said, rather grandly, you 
know — 

“Excuse me, madam, for interrupting you. I 
should be glad of some explanation about the dog. 
Is he your dog ? ” 

“My dog,” said the girl, half sitting up and shak- 
ing her hair back. It had got messy with all her 
hugging at Bruno. “ I should rather think so. I 
have nothing to explain. What do you mean?” 

“ I beg your pardon,” said papa. “ I have had 
the dog nearly a month, and during that time I have 
advertised him regularly. I have sent all about the 
neighbourhood to ask if any one had lost a dog, and 
altogether I have had a good deal of trouble and 
expense.” 

The girl got rather red. 

“ I see,” she said, “ I didn’t think of that. I was 
only so glad to find my dear dog. I’m very much 
obliged to you, I’m sure. I can tell you why your 
advertisements were never answered. We’ve been 
away for nearly a month, and the people here whom 
we lodge with have been very stupid about it. They 
missed Rollo as soon as we left, and took for granted 
we’d taken him with us after all. And we never 
knew till we came back two days ago that he was 
lost. He was lonely, you see, when he found I 


LOST HOLLO. 


149 


had gone, and I suppose he set out to look for 
me.” 

“ Yes,” said papa. “ Then I suppose there is 
nothing more to be said. My children must bear 
the disappointment ; they had naturally come to 
look upon him as their own.” 

Persis and I had turned away, so she couldn’t 
see we were crying. We didn’t want her to see; 
we didn’t like her. 

“I — I can’t offer to pay you anything of what 
he’s cost you, I suppose ? ” she said, getting redder 
still. 

“ Certainly not. Good-morning,” and papa lifted 
his hat. And we all went off. 

“ My poor Persis and Archie,” said papa very 
kindly. And when he said that, we felt as if we 
couldn’t keep it in any longer. We both burst out 
crying — loud. 

Just then we heard steps behind us. It was the 
girl running with the lovely new collar in her hand. 

“ This at least is yours,” she said, holding it out to 
papa. He smiled a little. 

“ You will please us by keeping it,” he said. “ It 
fits him ; you can easily have the engraving altered.” 

“ Thank you,” she said ; “ thank you very much. 
I am very sorry indeed for the children,” she went 
on, for she couldn’t have helped seeing how we were 
crying ; and a nice look came into her eyes, which 
made us like her better. She was very pretty. I 


150 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


forget if I said so. “ Shall I — shall I bring Rollo 
some day to see you?” 

But we shook our heads. 

“ No, thank you,” Persis managed to get out. 

“ Ah,” she said, “ I’m sorry ; but I understand.” 

And then we liked her quite. 

We trotted on beside papa, none of us speaking. 
At last Persis touched me. 

“ Archie,” she said, 44 1 think it’s for a punishment. 
May I tell?” 

I just nodded my head. 

Then Persis went close up to papa and put her 
hand through his arm. 

44 Papa,” she said, 44 we’ve something to tell you. 
We’re not crying only for Bruno, we’re unhappy 
because — because we’ve not been good.” 

44 We’ve not been honest ,” I said. That word 
44 honest ” had been sticking in my throat ever since 
the day papa had said it when he was speaking 
about it being right to advertise the dog. And now, 
when I said it, I felt as if I was going to choke. It 
felt so awful, you don’t know. 

Papa looked very grave, but he held out his other 
hand to me, and I was glad of that. 

44 Tell me all about it,” he said ; and then we told 
him everything — all about how in our real hearts 
we had known, or almost known, where Bruno came 
from, but how we had tried to pretend to ourselves 
— separately, I mean; Persis to herself and me to 


LOST ROLLO. 


151 


myself — that we didn’t know, so that we wouldn’t 
even say it to each other, and how it did seem now 
as if this had come for a punishment. 

Papa was very kind, so kind that we went on to 
tell him how great the temptation had been, how 
dreadfully we had longed for a dog, and how it had 
seemed that our only chance of ever having one 
would be one coming of itself, like Bruno had done. 

“ Why did you not tell mamma or me how very, 
very much you wished for one ? ” asked papa. “ It 
would have been better than bottling it up so be- 
tween yourselves. You have made yourselves think 
you wished for one even more than you really did.” 

But we couldn’t quite agree with that. 

“We did speak of it sometimes,” we said, “but 
we knew mamma didn’t want to have a dog — not in 
London. And — ” but there we stopped. We really 
didn’t quite know why we hadn’t said more about it. 
I think children often keep their fancies to them- 
selves without quite knowing why. But we didn’t 
think it had been a fancy only, after all. “We 
couldn't have loved him more,” we said. “ The real 
of it turned out quite as nice as the fancy.” 

Then papa spoke to us very seriously. I dare 
say you can tell of yourselves — all of you who have 
nice fathers and mothers — the sort of way he spoke. 
About being quite, quite true and honest even in 
thinkings, and about how dangerous it is to try to 
deceive ourselves , for that the self we try to deceive 


152 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


is the best part of us, the voice of God in our hearts, 
and it can never really be deceived, only, if we don’t 
listen to it, after a while we can’t hear it any more. 

“ Yes,” said Persis, “ I did know I was shamming 
to my good self all the time.” 

Then she cried a little more — and I did too. And 
papa kissed us, and we went on home, rather sadly 
of course, but still feeling, in a good way, glad too. 
And papa told it all to mamma, so that she kissed us 
very nicely when she said good-night, and called us 
her poor darlings. 

You may think that is the end. But it isn’t. The 
end is lovely. 

About a week after that day, one afternoon we 
heard that a lady and gentleman with a big dog had 
come to call on papa and mamma. We were afraid 
it was Bruno, and the people belonging to him, and 
as we didn’t want to see him again, we were just 
going to run out and hide in the garden for fear we 
should be sent for, when papa himself came calling 
for us. 

“ Persis. Archie.” And we dared not run away. 

“ Papa,” we said, “ we don’t want to come if it is 
Bruno.” 

“ It is Bruno,” he said ; “ but, all the same, you 
must come. You must trust me.” 

We had to go into the drawing-room. There was 
the girl talking quite nicely to mamma, and a gentle- 
man with her, who we saw was her brother, and 


LOST KOLLO. 


158 


— there was Bruno ! We tried not to look at him, 
while we shook hands. How silly we were !* 

“ Children,” said papa, “ this young lady has come 
to say something which will please you very much. 
She finds, quite unexpectedly, that she cannot keep 
her dog, as she and Mr. Riverton ” — papa made a 
little bow to her brother — “ are going abroad. Miss 
Riverton wants a good home for her dog. Do you 
think we could promise him one ? ” 

We could scarcely speak. It seemed too good to 
be true. 

“ Would he be ours for always ? ” I asked, and the 
young lady said, “ Yes, of course. I wouldn’t want 
to give you the pain of parting with him twice , you 
poor children.” 

“And mamma says we may?” we asked. And 
mamma nodded. Then Persis had a nice thought. 

“Aren’t you very sorry?” she asked the girl. 
But she only smiled. “ No, I can’t say I am,” she 
said, “because I know he’ll be very happy with you. 
And though I love him very much, I love my^brother 
better, and I’m very glad to go with him instead of 
being left behind, even with Rollo.” 

We quite liked her then. Her face was so nice. 
And she kissed us when she went away. Persis 
liked it, and I didn’t mind. 

Our Bruno has been with us ever since, and we 
love him more and more. He is quite happy, even 
in London, for he has a nice home in the stables, and 


154 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


we take him a walk every day, and he comes very 
often into the house. And in the country, where we 
now go for much longer every year, he is always 
with us. 

The girl writes to us sometimes, and we answer, 
and tell her about Bruno. She is coming to see him 
next year, when they come back to England. She 
calls him “ Rollo,” but we like “ Bruno ” best, and he 
doesn’t mind, the dear old fellow. 


THE BLUE DWARFS: 


AN ADVENTURE IN THURINGEN. 

“ And then on the top of the Caldon Low 
There was no one left hut me.” 

Mary Howitt. 

“ I liked the blue dwarfs the best — far, far the 
best of anything,” said Olive. 

“ 4 The blue dwarfs ! ’ ” repeated Rex. 44 What do 
you mean? Why can’t you say what you mean 
plainly ? Girls have such a stupid way of talking ! ” 

44 What can be plainer than the blue dwarfs ? ” 
said Olive rather snappishly, though, it must be al- 
lowed, with some reason. 44 We were talking about 
the things we liked best at the china place. You 
said the stags’ heads and the inkstands, and I say the 
blue dwarfs.” 

44 But I didn’t see any dwarfs,” persisted Rex. 

“Well, I can’t help it if you didn’t. You had 
just as much chance of seeing them as I had. They 
were in a corner by themselves — little figures about 
two inches high, all with blue coats on. There were 
about twelve of them, all different, but all little 
dwarfs or gnomes. One was sitting on a barrel, one 
was turning head-over-heels, one was cuddling his 
155 


156 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


knees — all funny ways like that. Oh, they were 
lovely ! ” 

“ 1 wish I had seen them better,” said Rex regret- 
fully. “ I do remember seeing a tray full of little 
blue-looking dolls, but I didn’t notice what they 
were.” 

Olive did not at once answer. Her eyes were 
fixed on something she saw passing before the win- 
dow. It was a very, very little man. He was not 
exactly hump-backed, but his figure was somewhat 
deformed, and he was so small that but for the sight 
of his rather wizened old face one could hardly have 
believed he was a full-grown man. His eyes were 
bright and beady-looking, like those of a good- 
natured little weasel, if there be such a thing, and 
his face lighted up with a smile as he caught sight 
of the two, to him, strange-looking children at the 
open window of the little village inn. 

“ Guten Tag,” he said, nodding to them ; and 
“Guten Tag,” replied the children, as they had 
learnt to do by this time to everybody they met. For 
in these remote villages it would be thought the 
greatest breach of courtesy to pass any one with- 
out this friendly greeting. 

Rex drew a long breath when the dwarf had 
passed. 

“ Olive — ” he began, but Olive interrupted him. 

“ Rex,” she said eagerly, “ that’s exactly like them 
— like the blue dwarfs, I mean. Only, of course, 


THE BLUE DWARFS. 


157 


their faces were prettier — nice little china faces, 
rather crumply looking, but quite nice ; and then 
their coats were such a pretty nice blue. I think,” 
she went on consideringly — U I think, if I had that 
little man and washed his face very well, and got 
him a bright blue coat, he would look just like one 
of the blue dwarfs grown big.” 

Rex looked at Olive with a queer expression. 

“ Olive,” he said in rather an awe-struck tone ; 
“ Olive, do you think perhaps they’re real ? Do you 
think perhaps somewhere in this country — in those 
queer dark woods, perhaps — that there are real blue 
dwarfs, and that somebody must have seen them 
and made the little china ones like them? Perhaps,” 
and his voice dropped and grew still and solemn ; 
“ perhaps , Olive, that little man’s one of them, and 
they may have to take off their blue coats when 
they’re walking about. Do you know, I think it’s a 
little, just a very little frightening? Don’t you, 
Olive?” 

“No, of course I don’t,” said Olive, and, to do her 
justice, her rather sharp answer was meant as much 
to reassure her little brother as to express any feeling 
of impatience. Rex was quite a little fellow, only 
eight, and Olive, who was nearly twelve, remem- 
bered that when she was as little as that, she used 
sometimes to feel frightened about things which she 
now couldn’t see anything the least frightening in. 
And she remembered how once or twice some of her 


158 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


big cousins had laughed at her, and amused them- 
selves by telling her all sorts of nonsense, which still 
seemed terrible to her when she was alone in her 
room in the dark at night. “Of course there’s noth- 
ing frightening in it,” she said. “ It would be rather 
a- funny idea, I think. Of course it can’t be, you 
know, Rex. There are no dwarfs, and gnomes, and 
fairies now.” 

“ But that little man was a dwarf,” said Rex. 

“ Yes, but a dwarf needn’t be a fairy sort of person,” 
explained Olive. “He’s just a common little man, 
only he’s never grown as big as other people. Per- 
haps he had a bad fall when he was a baby — that 
might stop his growing.” 

“Would it?” said Rex. “I didn’t know that. 
I hope I hadn’t a bad fall when I was a baby. 
Everybody says I’m very small for my age.” And 
Rex looked with concern at his short but sturdy legs. 

Olive laughed outright. 

“Oh, Rex, what a funny boy you are! No, cer- 
tainly, you are not a dwarf. You’re as straight and 
strong as you can be.” 

“Well, but,” said Rex, returning to the first sub- 
ject, “I do think it’s very queer about that little 
dwarf man coming up the street just as you were 
telling me about the blue dwarfs. And he did look 
at us in a funny way, Olive, whatever you say, just 
as if he had heard what we were talking about.” 

“ All the people look at us in a funny way here,” 


THE BLUE DWARFS. 


159 


said Olive. “We must look very queer to them. 
Your sailor suit, Rex, and my 4 Bolero ’ hat must 
look to them quite as queer as the women’s purple 
skirts, with bright green aprons, look to us.” 

“ Or the bullock-carts,” said Rex. 44 Do you re- 
member how queer we thought them at first? Now 
we’ve got quite used to seeing queer things, haven’t 
we, Olive ? Oh ! now do look there — at the top of 
the street — there, Olive, did you ever see such a load 
as that woman is carrying in the basket on her back ? 
Why, it’s as big as a house ! ” 

He seemed to have forgotten about the dwarfs, 
and Olive was rather glad of it. These two children 
were travelling with their uncle and aunt in a rather 
outrof-the-way part of Germany. Out-of-the-way, 
that is to say, to most of the regular summer tourists 
from other countries, who prefer going where they 
are more sure of finding the comforts and luxuries 
they are accustomed to at home. But it was by no 
means out-of-the-way in the sense of being dull or 
deserted. It is a very busy part of the world indeed. 
You would be amazed if I were to tell you some of 
the beautiful things that are made in these bare 
homely little German cottages. For all about in the 
neighbourhood there are great manufactories and 
warehouses for china and glass, and many other 
things ; and some parts of the work are done by the 
people at home in their own houses. The morning 
of the day of which I am telling you had been spent 


160 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


by the children and their friends in visiting a very 
large china manufactory, and their heads were full of 
the pretty and wonderful things they had seen. 

And now they were waiting in the best parlour of 
the village inn while their uncle arranged about a 
carriage to take them all on to the small town where 
they were to stay a few days. Their aunt was tired, 
and was resting a little on the sofa, and they had 
planted themselves on the broad window-sill, and 
were looking out with amusement at all that passed. 

“What have you two been chattering about all 
this time?” said their aunt, suddenly looking up. 
“ I think I must have been asleep a little, but I 
have heard your voices going on like two birds twit- 
tering.” 

“ Have we disturbed you, Auntie ? ” asked Olive, 
with concern. 

“ Oh no, not a bit ; but come here and tell me 
what you have been talking about.” 

Instantly Rex’s mind went back to the dwarfs. 

“ Auntie,” he said seriously, “ perhaps you can 
tell me better than Olive can. Are there really 
countries of dwarfs, and are they a kind of fairies, 
Auntie?” 

Auntie looked rather puzzled. 

“ Dwarfs, Rex ? ” she said ; “ countries of dwarfs ? 
How do you mean?” 

Olive hastened to explain. Auntie was very much 
amused. 


THE BLUE DWARFS. 


161 


“ Certainly,” she said, “ we have already seen so 
many strange things in onr travels that it is better 
not to be too sure what we may not see. But any- 
way, Rex, you may be quite easy in your mind, that 
if ever you come across any of the dwarfs, you will 
find them very good-natured and amiable, only you 
must be very respectful — always say ‘ Sir,’ or 4 My 
lord,’ or something like that to them, and bow a 
great deal. And you must never seem to think any- 
thing they do the least odd, not even if they propose 
to you to walk on your head, or to eat roast fir-cones 
for dinner, for instance.” 

Auntie was quite young — not so very much older 
than Olive — and very merry. Olive’s rather “grown- 
up ” tones and manners used sometimes to tempt her 
to make fun of the little girl, which, to tell the 
truth, Olive did not always take quite in good part. 
And it must for Olive be allowed, that Auntie did 
sometimes allow her spirits and love of fun to run 
away with her a little too far, just like pretty unruly 
ponies, excited by the fresh air and sunshine, who 
toss their heads and gallop off. It is great fun at 
first and very nice to see, but one is sometimes afraid 
they may do some mischief on the way — without 
meaning it, of course ; and, besides, it is not always 
so easy to pull them up as it was to start them. 

Just as Auntie finished speaking the door opened 
and their uncle came in. He was Auntie’s elder 
brother — a good deal older — and very kind and 


162 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


sensible. At once all thoughts of the dwarfs or what 
Auntie had been saying danced out of Rex’s curly 
head. Like a true boy he flew off to his uncle, be- 
sieging him with questions as to what sort of a car- 
riage they were to go on in — was it an ox-cart; 
oh, mightn’t they for once go in an ox-cart? and 
might he — oh, might he sit beside the driver in 
front ? 

His uncle laughed and replied to his questions, but 
Olive stayed beside the sofa, staring gravely at her 
aunt. 

“ Auntie,” she said, “ you’re not in earnest , are you, 
about there being really a country of dwarfs ? ” 

Olive was twelve. Perhaps you will think her 
very silly to have imagined for a moment that her 
aunt’s joke could be anything but a joke, especially 
as she had been so sensible about not letting Rex 
get anything into his head which could frighten him. 
But I am not sure that she was so very silly after all. 
She had read in her geography about the Lapps and 
Finns, the tiny little men of the north, whom one 
might very well describe as dwarfs ; there might be 
dwarfs in these strange Thiiringian forests, which 
were little spoken of in geography books ; Auntie 
knew more of such things than she did, for she had 
travelled in this country before. Then with her own 
eyes Olive had seen a dwarf, and though she had said 
to Rex that he was just an odd dwarf by himself as 
it were, not one of a race, how could she tell but 


THE BLUE DWARFS. 


163 


what he might be one of a number of such queer 
little people ? And even the blue dwarfs themselves 
— the little figures in the china manufactory — rather 
went to prove it than not. 

“They may have taken the idea of dwarfs from 
the real ones, as Rex said,” thought Olive. “ Any- 
way I shall look well about me if we go through 
any of these forests again. They must live in the 
forests, for Auntie said they eat roast fir-cones for 
dinner.” * 

All these thoughts were crowding through her 
mind as she stared up into Auntie’s face and asked 
solemnly — 

“ Auntie, were you in earnest ? ” 

Auntie’s blue eyes sparkled. 

“In earnest, Olive?” she said. “ Of course! Why 
shouldn’t I be in earnest? But come, quick, we 
must get our things together. Your uncle must 
have got a carriage.” 

“Yes,” said he, “I have. Not an ox-cart, Rex. 
I’m sorry for your sake, but for no one else’s ; for I 
don’t think there would be much left of us by the 
end of the journey if we were to be jogged along the 
forest roads in an ox-cart. No ! I have got quite 
a respectable vehicle ; but we must stop an hour 
or two on the way, to rest the horses and give 
them a feed, otherwise we could not get through 
to-night.” 

“ Where shall we stop ? ” said Auntie, as with 


164 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


the bundles of shawls and bags they followed the 
children’s uncle to the door. 

“ There is a little place in the forest, where they 
can look after the horses,” said he ; “ and I dare say 
we can get some coffee there for ourselves, if we 
want it. It is a pretty little nook. I remember it 
long ago, and I shall be glad to see it again.” 

Olive had pricked up her ears. “A little place 
in the forest ! ” she said to herself ; 44 that may be 
near where the dwarfs live : it is most likely not far 
from here, because of the one we saw.” She would 
have liked to ask her uncle about it, but something 
in the look of her aunt’s eyes kept her from doing 
so. 

44 Perhaps she was joking,” thought Olive to her- 
self. “But perhaps she doesn’t know; she didn’t see 
the real dwarf. It would be rather nice if I did 
find them, then Auntie couldn’t laugh at me any 
more.” 

They were soon comfortably settled in the carriage, 
and set off. The first part of the drive was not par- 
ticularly interesting; and it was so hot, though 
already afternoon, that they were all — Olive espe- 
cially, you may be sure — delighted to exchange 
the open country for the pleasant shade of a grand 
pine forest, through which their road now lay. 

44 Is it a very large forest, Uncle ? ” said Olive. 

44 Yes, very large,” he replied rather sleepily, to 
tell the truth; for both he and Auntie had been 


THE BLUE DWARFS. 


165 


nodding a little, and Rex had once or twice been 
fairly asleep. But Olive’s imagination was far too 
hard at work to let her sleep. 

“ The largest in Europe ? ” she went on, without 
giving much thought to poor Uncle’s sleepiness. 

“ Oh yes, by far,” he replied, for he had not heard 
clearly what she said, and fancied it was “ the largest 
hereabouts.” 

“ Dear me ! ” thought Olive, looking round her 
with awe and satisfaction. “ If there are dwarfs 
anywhere, then it must be here.” 

And she was just beginning another. “ And 
please, Uncle, is — ? ” when her aunt looked up and 
said lazily — 

“ Oh, my dear child, do be quiet ! Can’t you go 
to sleep yourself a little? We shall have more than 
enough of the forest before we are out of it.” 
Which offended Olive so much that she relapsed 
into silence. 

Auntie was a truer prophet than she knew; for 
wdien they got to the little hamlet in the wood, 
where they were to rest, something proved to be 
wrong with one of the horse’s shoes ; so wrong, indeed, 
that after a prolonged examination, at which all the 
inhabitants turned out to assist, it was decided that 
the horse must be re-shod before he could go any 
farther ; and this made it impossible for the party 
who had come in the carriage to go any farther 
either. For the nearest smithy was two miles off ; 


166 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


the horse must be led there and back by the driver, 
which would take at least two, if not three, hours. 
It was now past six, and they had come barely half 
way. The driver shook his head, and said he would 
not like to go on to the town till morning. The 
horse had pricked his foot ; it might cause inflamma- 
tion to drive him farther without a rest, and the 
carriage was far too heavy for the other horse alone, 
which had suddenly struck the children’s uncle as a 
brilliant idea. 

44 There would be no difficulty about the harness- 
ing, anyway,” he said to Auntie, laughing ; 44 for all 
the vehicles hereabouts drawn by one horse have the 
animal at one side of a pole, instead of between 
shafts.” 

But Auntie thought it better to give in. 

44 It really doesn’t much matter,” she said ; 44 we 
can stay here well enough. There are two bedrooms, 
and no doubt they can give us something to eat; 
beer and sausages, and brown bread anyway.” 

And so it was settled, greatly to Olive’s satisfac- 
tion; it would give her capital opportunities for a 
dwarf hunt! though as to this she kept her own 
counsel. 

The landlady of the little post-house where they 
had stopped was accustomed to occasional visits of 
this kind from benighted or distressed travellers. 
She thought nothing of turning her two daughters 
out of their bedroom, which, it must be owned, was 


THE BLUE DWARFS. 


167 


very clean, for Auntie and Olive, and a second room 
on the ground-floor was prepared for Rex and his 
uncle. She had coffee ready in five minutes, and 
promised them a comfortable supper before bedtime. 
Altogether, everything seemed very satisfactory, and 
when they felt a little refreshed, Auntie proposed a 
walk — “ a good long walk,” she said, “ would do 
us good. And the landlady says we get out of the 
forest up there behind the house, where the ground 
rises, and that there is a lovely view. It will be 
rather a climb, but it isn’t more than three-quarters 
of an hour from here, and we have not walked all 
day.” 

Uncle thought it a good idea, and Rex was ready 
to start at once ; but Olive looked less pleased. 

“ Don’t you want to come, Olive ? ” said Auntie. 
“Are you tired? You didn’t take a nap like the 
rest of us.” 

“I am a little tired,” said Olive, which was true 
in one sense, though not in another, for she was quite 
fit for a walk. It struck her that her excuse was 
not quite an honest one, so she added, “ If you don’t 
mind, I would rather stay about here. I don’t mind 
being alone, and I have my book. And I do so like 
the forest.” 

“Very well,” said her uncle; “only don’t lose 
yourself. She is perfectly safe,” he added, turning 
to her aunt ; “ there are neither wolves, nor bears, 
nor robbers nowadays, in these peaceful forests.” 


168 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


So the three set off, leaving Olive to her own 
devices. She waited till they were out of sight, 
then she made her preparations. 

“ I’d better take my purse,” she said to herself, 
“ in case I meet the dwarfs. Auntie told me to be 
very polite, and perhaps they would like some of 
these tiny pieces; they just look as if they were 
meant for them.” So she chose out a few one- 
pfennig copper coins, which are much smaller than 
our farthings, and one or two silver pieces, worth 
about twopence-halfpenny each, still smaller. Then 
she put in her pocket half a slice of the brown bread 
they had had with their coffee, and arming herself, 
more for appearance’-sake than anything else, with 
her parasol and the book she had with her in her 
travelling bag, she set off on her solitary ramble. 

It was still hot — though the forest trees made a 
pleasant shade. Olive walked some way, farther and 
farther, as far as she could make out, into the heart 
of the forest, but in her inexperience she took no 
sort of care to notice the way she went, or to make 
for herself any kind of landmarks. She just wan- 
dered on and on, tempted first by some mysterious 
little path, and then by another, her mind full of the 
idea of the discoveries she was perhaps about to 
make. Now and then a squirrel darted across from 
one tree to another, disappearing among the branches 
almost before Olive could be sure she had seen it, 
or some wild wood birds, less familiar to the little 


THE BLUE DWARFS. 


169 


foreigner, would startle her with a shrill, strange 
note. There were here and there lovely flowers 
growing among the moss, and more than once she 
heard the sound of not far off trickling water. It 
was all strangely beautiful, and she would greatly 
have enjoyed and admired it had not her mind been 
so full of the queer fascinating idea of the blue 
dwarfs. 

At last — she had wandered about for some time 
— Olive began to feel tired. 

“ I may as well sit down a little,” she thought ; 
“ I have lots of time to get back. This seems the 
very heart of the forest. They are just as likely to 
be seen here as anywhere else.” 

So Olive esconced herself in a comfortable corner, 
her back against the root of a tree, which seemed 
hollowed out on purpose to serve as an arm-chair. 
She thought at first she would read a little, but the 
light was already slightly waning, and the tree 
shadows made it still fainter. Besides, Olive had 
plenty to think of — she did not require any amuse" 
ment. Queer little noises now and then made them- 
selves heard — once or twice it really sounded as if 
small feet were pattering along, or as if shrill little 
voices were laughing in the distance ; and with each 
sound, Olive’s heart beat faster with excitement — 
not with fear. 

“If I sit very still,” she thought, “who knows 
what I may see ? Of course, it would be much nicer 


170 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


and prettier if the dwarfs were quite tiny — not like 
the little man we saw in the street at that place — 
I forget the name — for he was not pretty at all — 
but like the blue dwarfs at the manufactory. But 
that, I suppose, is impossible, for they would be really 
like fairies. But they might be something between : 
not so big as the little man, and yet bigger than the 
blue dwarfs.” 

And then Olive grew a little confused in trying 
to settle in her mind how big, or how small rather, 
it was possible or impossible for a nation of dwarfs 
to be. She thought it over till she hardly seemed 
sure what she was trying to decide. She kept saying 
to herself, 44 Anyway, they could not but be a good 
deal bigger than my thumb ! What does that mean? 
Perhaps it means more in German measures than in 
English, perhaps — ” 

But what was that that suddenly hit her on the 
nose ? Olive looked up, a very little inclined to be 
offended ; it is not a pleasant thing to be hit on the 
nose ; could it be Rex come behind her suddenly, and 
playing her a trick ? Just as she was thinking this, 
a second smart tap on the nose startled her still more, 
and this time there was no mistake about it ; it came 
from above, and it was a fir-cone ! Had it come of 
itself? Somehow the words, “Roast fir-cones for 
dinner,” kept running in her head, and she took up 
the fir-cone in her fingers to examine it, but quickly 
dropped it again, for it was as hot as a coal. 





THE BLUE DWARFS. 


171 


“ It has a very roasty smell,” thought Olive ; 
“ where can it have come from ? ” 

And hardly had she asked herself the question, 
when a sudden noise all round her made her again 
look up. They were sliding down the branches of 
the tree in all directions. At first, to her dazzled 
eyes, they seemed a whole army, but as they touched 
the ground one by one, and she was able to distin- 
guish them better, she saw that after all there were 
not so very many. One, two, three, she began quickly 
counting to herself, not aloud, of course — that would 
not have been polite — one, two, three, up to twelve, 
then thirteen, fourteen, and so on up to — yes, there 
were just twenty-four of them. 

“Two of each,” said Olive to herself; “a double 
set of the blue dwarfs.” 

For they were the blue dwarfs, and no mistake ! 
Two of each, as Olive had seen at once.^ And im- 
mediately they settled themselves in twos — two 
squatted on the ground embracing their knees, two 
strode across a barrel which they had somehow or 
other brought with them, two began turning head- 
over-heels, two knelt down with their heads and queer 
little grinning faces looking over their shoulders, 
twos and twos of them in every funny position you 
could imagine, all arranged on the mossy ground in 
front of where Olive sat, and all dressed in the same 
bright blue coats as the toy dwarfs at the china 
manufactory. 


172 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


Olive sat still and looked at them. Somehow she 
did not feel surprised. 

44 How big are they ? ” she said to herself. “ Big- 
ger than my thumb ? Oh, yes, a good deal. I should 
think they are about as tall as my arm would be if 
it was standing on the ground. I should think they 
would come up above my knee. I should like to 
stand up and measure, but perhaps it is better for 
me not to speak to them till they speak to me.” 

She had not long to wait. In another moment 
two little blue figures separated themselves from the 
crowd, and made their way up to her. But when 
they were close to her feet they gave a sudden jump 
in the air, and came down, not on their feet, but on 
their heads ! And then again some of her aunt’s 
words came back to her, “ If they should ask you to 
stand on your head, for instance.” 

44 Dear me,” thought Olive, 44 how did Auntie know 
so much about them ? But I do hope they won’t ask 
me to stand on my head.” 

Her fears were somewhat relieved when the 
dwarfs gave another spring and came down this 
time in a respectable manner on their feet. Then, 
with a good many bows and flourishes, they began a 
speech. 

44 We are afraid,” said the first. 

44 That the fir-cones,” said the second. 

44 Were rather underdone,” finished up the first. 

Olive really did not know what to say. She was 


THE BLUE DWARFS. 


173 


dreadfully afraid that it would seem so very rude of 
her not even to have tasted the cones. But naturally 
she had not had the slightest idea that they had been 
intended for her to eat. 

44 I am very sorry,” she said, 44 Mr. , sir ! my 

lord ! I beg your pardon. I don’t quite know what 
I should call you.” 

“ With all respect,” said the first. 

44 And considering the circumstances,” went on the 
second. 

Then, just as Olive supposed they were going to 
tell her their names, they stopped short and looked 
at her. 

44 1 beg your pardon,” she began again, after wait- 
ing a minute or two to see if they had nothing else 
to say; 44 1 don’t quite understand.” 

44 Nor do we,” they replied promptly, speaking for 
the first time both together. 

44 Do you mean you don’t know what my name is ?” 
said she. 44 It’s Olive, Olive ! ” for the dwarfs stood 
staring as if they had not heard her. 44 Olive ! ” she 
repeated for the third time. 

44 Green ? ” asked the first. 

44 No ! ” said Olive. 44 Of course not ! Green is a 
very common name — at least — ” 

44 But you called us 4 blue,’ ” said the second ; and 
it really was a relief to hear him finish a sentence 
comfortably by himself, only Olive felt very puzzled 
by what he said* 


174 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


44 How do you know ? ” she said. 44 How could you 
tell I called you the blue dwarfs?” and then another 
thought suddenly struck her. How very odd it was 
that the dwarf spoke such good English ! 44 1 thought 
you were German,” she said. 

44 How very amusing ! ” said the dwarfs, this time 
again speaking together. 

Olive could not see that it was very amusing, 
but she was afraid of saying so, for fear it should be 
rude. 

44 And about the fir-cones,” went on the first 
dwarf. 44 It is distressing to think they were so 
underdone. But we have come, all of us,” waving 
his hand in the direction of the others, 44 to invite 
you to supper in our village. There you will find 
them done to perfection.” 

Olive felt more and more uncomfortable. 

44 You are very kind,” she said. 44 1 should like to 
come very much if it isn’t too far ; but I am afraid I 
couldn’t eat any supper. Indeed, I’m not hungry.” 
And then a bright thought struck her. 44 See here,” 
she went on, drawing the half slice of bread out of 
her pocket, 44 1 had to put this in my pocket, for I 
couldn’t finish it at our afternoon coffee.” 

The two dwarfs came close and examined the piece 
of bread with the greatest attention. They pinched 
and smelt it, and one of them put out his queer little 
pointed tongue and licked it. 

44 Not good ! ” he said, looking up at Olive and roll- 
ing about his eyes in a very queer way. 


THE BLUE DWARFS. 


175 


“ I don’t know,” said Olive ; “ I don’t think it can 
be bad. It is the regular bread of the country. I 
should have thought you would be accustomed to it, 
as you live here.” 

The two dwarfs took no notice of what she said, 
but suddenly turned round, and standing with their 
backs to Olive called out shrilly, “ Guten Tag.” 
Immediately all the other dwarfs replied in the same 
tone and the same words, and to Olive’s great sur- 
prise they all began to move towards her, but with- 
out altering their attitudes — those on the barrel 
rolled towards her without getting off it ; the two 
who were hugging their knees continued to hug them, 
while they came on by means of jerking themselves ; 
the turning head-over-heels ones span along like 
wheels, and so on till the whole assemblage were at 
her feet. Then she saw unfolded before her, hang- 
ing on the branches of the tree, a large mantle, just 
the shape of her aunt’s travelling dust-cloak, which 
she always spread over Olive in a carriage, only, 
instead of being drab or fawn-coloured, it was, like 
the dwarfs’ jackets, bright blue. And without any 
one telling her, Olive seemed to know of herself 
that she was to put it on. 

She got up and reached the cloak easily; it 
seemed to put itself on, and Olive felt very happy 
and triumphant as she said to herself, “ Now I’m 
really going to have some adventures.” 

The dwarfs marched — no ! one cannot call it 


176 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


marching, for they had about a dozen different ways 
of proceeding — they moved on, and Olive in the 
middle, her blue cloak floating majestically on her 
shoulders. No one spoke a word. It grew darker 
and darker among the trees, but Olive did not feel 
frightened. On they went, till at last she saw 
twinkling before them a very small but bright blue 
light. It looked scarcely larger than the lamp of a 
glow-worm, but it shone out very distinct in the 
darkness. Immediately they saw it the dwarfs set 
up a shout, and as it died away, to Olive’s surprise, 
they began to sing. And what do you think they 
sang ? Olive at first could hardly believe her ears 
as they listened to the thoroughly English song of 
“Home, sweet Home.” And the queerest thing was 
that they sang it very prettily, and that it sounded 
exactly like her aunt’s voice ! And though they 
were walking close beside her, their voices when 
they left off singing did not so much seem to stop as 
to move off, to die away into the distance, which 
struck Olive as very odd. % 

They had now arrived at the trunk of a large tree, 
half way up which hung the little lamp — at least 
Olive supposed it must be a lamp — from which 
came the bright blue light. 

“ Here we are,” said one of the dwarfs, she did not 
see which, “at the entrance to our village.” And 
thereupon all the dwarfs began climbing up the tree, 
swarming about it like a hive of bees, till they got 


THE BLUE DWARFS. 


177 


some way up, when one after another they suddenly 
disappeared. Olive could see all they did by the 
blue light. She was beginning to wonder if she 
would be left standing there alone, when a shout 
made her look up, and she saw two dwarfs standing 
on a branch holding a rope ladder, which they had 
just thrown down, and making signs to her to mount 
up by it. It was quite easy ; up went Olive, step by 
step, and when she reached the place where the two 
dwarfs were standing, she saw how it was that they 
had all disappeared. The tree trunk was hollow, 
and there were steps cut in it like a stair, down 
which the dwarfs signed to her that she was to go. 
She did not need to be twice told, so eager was she 
to see what was to come. The stair was rather 
difficult for her to get down without falling, for the 
steps were too small, being intended for the dwarfs, 
but Olive managed pretty well, only slipping now 
and then. The stair seemed very long, and as she 
went farther it grew darker, till at last it was quite 
dark ; by which time, fortunately, however, she felt 
herself again on level ground, and after waiting half 
a minute a door seemed to open, and she found her- 
self standing outside the tree stair, with the prettiest 
sight before her eyes that she had ever seen or even 
imagined. 

It was the dwarf village ! Rows and rows of tiny 
houses — none of them more than about twice as high 
as Olive herself, for that was quite big enough for a 


178 


A CHRISTMAS FOSY. 


dwarf cottage, each with a sweet little garden in 
front, like what one sees in English villages, though 
the houses themselves were like Swiss chalets. It 
was not dark down here, there was a soft light about 
as bright as we have it at summer twilight; and 
besides this, each little house had a twinkling blue 
light hanging above the front door, like a sign-post. 
And at the door of each cottage stood one of the 
dwarfs, with a little dwarf wife beside him ; only, 
instead of blue, each little woman was dressed in 
brown, so that they were rather less showy than their 
husbands. They all began bowing as Olive appeared, 
and all the little women curtseying, and Olive seemed 
to understand, without being told, that she was to 
walk up the village street to see all there was to be 
seen. So on she marched, her blue cloak floating 
about her, so that sometimes it reached the roofs of 
the houses on each side at the same time. 

Olive felt herself rather clumsy. Her feet, which 
in general she was accustomed to consider rather neat, 
and by no means too large for her age, seemed such 
great awkward things. If she had put one of them 
in at the window of a dwarf house, it would have 
knocked everything out of its place. 

‘‘Dear me!” thought Olive, “I had lio idea 1 
could seem clumsy ! I feel like a great ploughman. 
I wish I were not so big.” 

“ Yes,” said a voice beside her, “ it has its dis- 
advantages ; ” and Olive, looking down to see who 


THE BLUE DWARFS. 


179 


spoke — she had to look down for everything — 
caught sight of one of the two dwarfs with whom 
she had first spoken. She felt a little ruffled. She 
did not like this trick of the dwarf hearing what she 
thought before she said it. 

“ Everything has its disadvantages,” she replied. 
“ Don’t you find yourself very inconveniently small 
when you are up in our world ? ” 

“Exactly so,” said the dwarf ; but he did not seem 
the least put out. 

“ They are certainly very good-tempered,” said 
Olive to herself. Then suddenly a thought struck 
her. 

“Your village is very neat and pretty,” she said; 
“though, perhaps — I don’t mean to be rude, not on 
any account — ” 

“ No,” interrupted the dwarf ; “ Auntie told you on 
no account to be rude.” 

“ Auntie ! ” repeated Olive, in astonishment ; “ she 
is not your auntie ! ” 

“On no account,” said the dwarf, in the same calm 
tone, but without seeming to take in that Olive meant 
to reprove him. 

“It’s no use trying to make them understand,” 
said Olive to herself. 

“Not the least,” said the dwarf; at which Olive 
felt so provoked that she could have stamped her 
feet with irritation. But as thinking crossly seemed 
in this country to be quite as bad as speaking crossly, 


180 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


she had to try to swallow down her vexation as well 
as she could. 

“ I was going to say,” she went on quietly,” “ that 
to my taste the village would be prettier if there was 
a little variety. Not all the houses just the same, 
you know. And all of you are so like each other, 
and all your little brown wives too. Are there no 
children dwarfs?” 

“ Doubtless. Any quantity,” was the answer. 

“Then where are they all?” said Olive. “Are 
they all asleep ? ” She put the last question rather 
sarcastically, but the sarcasm seemed to be lost on 
the little man. 

“Yes, all asleep,” he replied; “all asleep, and 
dreaming. Children are very fond of dreaming,” 
he went on, looking up at Olive with such a queer 
expression, and such a queer tone in his voice too, 
that Olive got a queer feeling herself, as if he meant 
more than his words actually said. Could he mean 
to hint that she was dreaming? But a remark from 
the dwarf distracted her thoughts. 

“ Supper is ready,” he said. “ They are all wait- 
ing.” And turning round, Olive saw before her a 
cottage a good deal larger than the others ; in fact, it 
was almost high enough for her, with considerable 
stooping, to get in at the door. And through the 
windows she saw a long table neatly covered with a 
bright blue table-cloth, and spread with numbers of 
tiny plates, and beside each plate a knife and fork 


THE BLUE DWARFS. 


181 


and a little blue glass cup. Two great dishes stood 
on the table, one at each end. Steam was rising 
from each, and a delicious smell came out through 
the open windows. 

“ I did not know I was so hungry,” thought Olive ; 
“ but I do hope it isn’t fir-cones.” 

“Yes,” said the dwarf; “they’ll be better done 
this time.” 

Then he gave a sort of sharp, sudden cry or 
whistle, and immediately all the dwarfs of the village 
appeared as if by magic, and began hurrying into the 
house, but as soon as they were in the middle of the 
passage they fell back at each side, leaving a clear 
space in the middle. 

“ For you,” said the first dwarf, bowing politely. 

“ Do you always have supper here altogether like 
that? ” said Olive. “ How funny ! ” 

“Not at all,” said the dwarf; “it’s a table d’h6te. 
Be so good as to take your place.” 

Olive bent her head cautiously in preparation for 
passing through the door, when again the same sharp 
cry startled her, and lifting her head suddenly she 
bumped it against the lintel. The pain of the blow 
was rather severe. 

“ What did you do that for ? ” she exclaimed 
angrily. “Why did you scream out like that? I — ” 
But she said no more. The cry was repeated, and 
this time it did its work effectually, for Olive awoke. 
Awoke — was it waking? — to find herself all in the 


182 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


dark, stiff and cold, and her head aching with the 
bump she had given it against the old tree-trunk, 
while farther off now she heard the same shrill hoot 
or cry of some early astir night-bird, which had 
sounded before in her dreams. 

“ Oh dear ! oh dear ! ” she sobbed, “ what shall I 
do ? Where am I ? How can I ever find my way 
in the dark? I believe it was all a trick of those 
nasty blue dwarfs. I don’t believe I was dreaming. 
They must be spiteful goblins. I wish 1 had not 
gone with them to see their village.” And so for 
some minutes, half asleep and half awake, Olive 
stayed crouching by the tree, which seemed her only 
protector. But by degrees, as her senses — her com- 
mon sense particularly — came back to her, she began 
to realise that it was worse than useless to sit there 
crying. Dark as it was, she must try to find her way 
back to the little inn, where, doubtless, Auntie and 
the others were in the greatest distress about her, the 
thought of which nearly made her burst out crying 
again ; and poor Olive stumbled up to her feet as best 
she could, fortunately not forgetting to feel for her 
book and parasol which w T ere lying beside her, and 
slowly and tremblingly made her way on a few steps, 
hoping that perhaps if she could manage to get out of 
the shadow of the trees it might not be quite so dark 
farther on. She was not altogether disappointed. 
It certainly grew a very little less black, but that it 
was a very dark night there was no denying. And, 


THE BLUE DWARFS. 


188 


indeed, though it had not been dark, she would have 
had the greatest difficulty in finding her way out of the 
wood, into which she had so thoughtlessly penetrated. 
Terrifying thoughts, too, began to crowd into her 
mind, though, as I think I have shown you, she was 
not at all a timid child. But a forest on a dark 
night, and so far away from everywhere — it was 
enough to shake her nerves. She hoped and trusted 
there was no fear of wolves in summer-time ; but 
bears ! — ah ! as to bears there was no telling. Even 
the hooting cries of the birds which she now and 
then again heard in the distance frightened her, 
and she felt that a bat flapping against her would 
send her nearly out of her mind. And after a while 
she began to lose heart — it was not quite so dark, 
but she had not the ver}^ least idea where she was 
going. She kept bumping and knocking herself 
against the trunks ; she was evidently not in a path, 
but wandering farther and farther among the forest 
trees. That was about all she could feel sure of, and 
after two or three more vain efforts Olive fairly gave 
up, and, sinking down on the ground, again burst 
into tears. 

“ If I but had a mariner’s compass,” she thought, 
her fancy wandering off to all the stories of lost people 
she had ever heard of. Then she further reflected 
that a compass would do her very little good if it 
was too dark to see it, and still more as she had not 
the slightest idea whether her road lay north, south, 


184 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


east, or west. “ If the stars were out ! ” was her next 
idea; but then, I am ashamed to say, Olive’s ideas 
of astronomy were limited. She could have perhaps 
recognised the Plough and the Pole star, but she 
could not remember which way they pointed. Be- 
sides, she did not feel quite sure that in Thiiringen 
one would see the same stars as in England or Paris ; 
and, after all, as there were none visible, it was no 
good puzzling about it, only if they had been there it 
would not have seemed so lonely. Suddenly — what 
was that in the distance ? A light, a tiny light, 
bobbing in and out of sight among the trees ? Could 
it be a star come out of its way to take pity on her ? 
Much more likely a Will-o’-the-wisp ; for she did not 
stop to reflect that a dry pine forest in summer-time 
is not one of Will-o’-the-wisp’s favourite playgrounds. 
It was a light, as to that there was no doubt, and it 
was coming nearer. Whether she was more frightened 
or glad Olive scarcely knew. Still, almost anything 
was better than to sit there to be eaten up by bears, 
or to die of starvation ; and she eagerly watched the 
light now steadily approaching her, till it came near 
enough for her to see that it was a lantern carried by 
some person not high above the ground. A boy per- 
haps ; could it be — oh, joyful thought ! — could it be 
Rex ? But no ; even if they were all looking for her 
it was not likely that they would let Rex be running 
about alone to get lost too. Still, it must be a boy, 
and without waiting to think more Olive called out — 


THE BLUE DWARFS. 


185 


“ Oh, please come and help me ! I’m lost in the 
wood ! ” she cried, thinking nothing of German or 
anything but her sore distress. 

The lantern moved about undecidedly for a moment 
or two, then the light flashed towards her and came 
still nearer. 

“ Ach Grott!” exclaimed an unfamiliar voice, and 
Olive, peering forward, thought for half a second 
she was again dreaming. He was not, certainly, 
dressed in blue, and he was a good deal taller 
than up to her knee ; but still he was — there was 
no doubt about it — he was a dwarf! And another 
gaze at his queer little figure and bright sparkling 
eyes told Olive that it was the very same little man 
who had smiled at Rex and her when he saw them 
leaning out of the inn window that very afternoon. 

She didn’t feel frightened; he looked so good- 
natured and so sorry for her. And somehow Olive’s 
faith in the possible existence of a nation of dwarfs 
had received a shock ; she was much more inclined 
to take things prosaically. But it was very difficult 
to explain matters. I think the dwarf at the first 
moment was more inclined to take her for something 
supernatural than she was now to imagine him a 
brownie or a gnome. For she was a pretty little 
girl, with a mass of golden fair hair and English blue 
eyes ; and with her hat half fallen off, and her cheeks 
flushed, she might have sat for a picture of a fai^ 
who had strayed from her home. 


186 


A CHRISTMAS POSY. 


Her German seemed all to go out of her head. 
But she managed to remember the name of the 
village where they had been that afternoon, and a 
sudden recollection seemed to come over the dwarf. 
He poured out a flood of words and exclamations, 
amidst which all that Olive could understand was 
the name of the village and the words “ verirrt ,” 
“ armes Kind” which she knew meant “lost” and 
“ poor child.” Then he went on to tell that he too 
was on his way from the same village to somewhere ; 
that he came by the woods, because it was shorter, 
and lifting high his lantern, gave Olive to understand 
that he could now show her the way. 

So off she set under his guidance,' and, only fancy ! 
a walk of not more than ten minutes brought them 
to tfie little inn ! Olive’s wanderings and straying 
had, after all, drawn her very near her friends if she 
had known it. Poor Auntie and Rex were running 
about in front of the house in great distress. Uncle 
and the landlord and the coachman had set off with 
lanterns, and the landlady was trying to persuade 
Auntie that there was not really anything to be 
afraid of ; neither bears, nor wolves, nor evilly-dis- 
posed people about : the little young lady had, doubt- 
less, fallen asleep in the wood with the heat and 
fatigue of the day ; which, as you know, was a very 
good guess, though the landlady little imagined what 
queer places and people Olive had been visiting in 
her sleep. 


THE BLUE DWARFS. 


187 


The dwarf was a well-known person thereabouts, 
and a very harmless, kindly little man. A present 
of a couple of marks sent him off to his cottage near 
by very happy indeed, and when Uncle returned a 
few minutes later to see if the wanderer had been 
heard of, you can imagine how thankful he was to 
find her. It was not so very late after all, not above 
half-past ten o’clock, but a thunderstorm which came 
on not long after explained the unusual darkness of 
the cloud-covered sky. 

“ What a good thing you were safe before the 
storm came on ! ” said Auntie, with a shudder at 
the thought of the dangers her darling had escaped. 
“ I will take care never again to carry my jokes too 
far,” she resolved, when Olive had confided to her 
the real motive of her wanderings in the wood. And 
Olive, for her part, decided that she would be con- 
tent with fairies and dwarfs in books and fancy, with- 
out trying to find them in reality. 

“Though all the same,” she said to herself, “I 
should have liked to taste the roast fir-cones. They 
did smell so good ! ” “ And, Auntie,” she said aloud, 
“ were you singing in the wood on your way home 
with Uncle and Rex?” 

“Yes,” said Auntie, “they begged me to sing 
Home, sweet Home.’ Why do you ask me ? ” 

Olive explained. “So it was your voice I heard 
when I thought it was the dwarfs,” she said, smiling. 

And Auntie gave her still another kiss. 



A NEW UNIFORM EDITION 


MRS. MOLESWORTH'S 

STORIES FOR CHILDREN 

WITH 

ILLUSTRATIONS BY WALTER CRANE AND LESLIE BROOKE. 


In Ten Volumes. i 2 mo. Cloth. One Dollar a Volume. 


Tell Me a Story, and Herr Baby. 

Carrots,” and A Christmas Child. 

^ Grandmother Dear, and Two Little Waifs. 

The Cuckoo Clock, and The Tapestry Room. 

^ Christmas-Tree Land, and A Christmas Posy. 
The Children of the Castle, and Four Winds Farm. 

Little Miss Peggy, and Nurse Heatherdale’s Story. 
“Us,” and The Rectory Children. 

Rosy, and The Girls and I. 

Mary. 

THE SET, TEN VOLUMES, IN BOX, $10.00. 


“ It seems to me not at all easier to draw a lifelike child than to draw a lifelike man 
or woman : Shakespeare and Webster were the only two men of their age who could 
do it with perfect delicacy and success; at least, if there was another who could, I 
must crave pardon of his happy memory for my forgetfulness or ignorance of his 
name. Our own age is more fortunate, on this single score at least, having a larger 
and far nobler proportion of female writers; among whom, since the death of George 
Eliot, there is none left whose touch is so exquisite and masterly, whose love is so 
thoroughly according to knowledge, whose bright and sweet invention is so fruitful, 
so truthful, or so delightful as Mrs. Molesworth’s. Any chapter of The Cuckoo Clock 
or the enchanting Adventures of Herr Baby is worth a shoal of the very best novels 
dealing with the characters and fortunes of mere adults.” — Mrs. A. C. Swinburne, 
in The Nineteenth Cetitury. 


MACMILLAN & CO., 

66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK. 


I 


MRS. MOLESWORTH’S 


STORIES FOR CHILDREN. 


“ There is hardly a better author to put into the hands of children than Mrs. 
Molesworth. I cannot easily speak too highly of her work. It is a curious art she 
has, not wholly English in its spirit, but a cross of the old English with the Italian. 
Indeed, I should say Mrs. Molesworth had also been a close student of the German 
and Russian, and had some way, catching and holding the spirit of all, created a 
method and tone quite her own. . . . Her characters are admirable and real.” — St. 
Louis Globe Democrat. 

“ Mrs. Molesworth has a rare gift for composing stories for children. With a 
light, yet forcible touch, she paints sweet and artless, yet natural and strong, charac- 
ters.” — Conge egatio?ialist. 

“ Mrs. Molesworth always has in her books those charming touches of nature 
that are sure to charm small people. Her stories are so likely to have been true that 
men * grown up ’ do not disdain them.” — Home Journal. 

“ No English writer of childish stories has a better reputation than Mrs. Moles- 
worth, and none with whose stories we are familiar deserves it better. She has a 
motherly knowledge of the child nature, a clear sense of character, the power of 
inventing simple incidents that interest, and the ease which comes of continuous 
practice.” — Mail and Express. 

“ Christmas would hardly be Christmas without one of Mrs. Molesworth’s stories. 
No one has quite the same power of throwing a charm and an interest about the 
most commonplace every-day doings as she has, and no one has ever blended fairy- 
land and reality with the same skill.” — Educational Times. 

“Mrs. Molesworth is justly a great favorite with children; her stories for them 
are always charmingly interesting and healthful in tone.” — Boston Home Journal. 

“ Mrs. Molesworth’s books are cheery, wholesome, and particularly well adapted to 
refined life. It is safe to add that Mrs. Molesworth is the best English prose writer 
for children. . . . Anew volume from Mrs. Molesworth is always a treat.” — The 
Beacon. 

“ No holiday season would be complete for a host of young readers without a volume 
from the hand of Mrs. Molesworth. ... It is one of the peculiarities of Mrs. 
Molesworth’s stories that older readers can no more escape their charm than younger 
ones.” — Christian Union. 

“ Mrs. Molesworth ranks with George Macdonald and Mrs. Ewing as a writer of 
children’s stories that possess real literary merit.” — Milwaukee Sentinel. 


THE SET, TEN VOLUMES, IN BOX, $10.00. 


MACMILLAN & CO., 

66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK. 


2 


TELL ME A STORY, and HERR BABY 


“ So delightful that we are inclined to join in the petition, and we hope she may 
soon tell us more stories.” — Athenaeum. 


“CARROTS”; Just a Little Boy. 

“ One of the cleverest and most pleasing stories it has been our good fortune to 
meet with for some' time. Carrots and his sister are delightful little beings, whom to 
read about is at once to become very fond of.” — j E xaminer. 


A CHRISTMAS CHILD ; A Sketch of a Boy’s Life. 

“ A very sweet and tgnderly drawn sketch, with life and reality manifest through- 
out.” — Pall Mall Gazette. 

“ This is a capital story, well illustrated. Mrs. Molesworth is one of those sunny, 
genial writers who has genius for writing acceptably for the young. She has the 
happy faculty of blending enough real with romance to make her stories very practi- 
cal for good without robbing them of any of their exciting interest.” — Chicago Inter- 
Ocean. 

“Mrs. Molesworth’s A Christmas Child is a story of a boy-life. The book is a 
small one, but none the less attractive. It is one of the best of this year’s juveniles.” 

— Chicago Tribune. 

“ Mrs. Molesworth is one of the few writers of tales for children whose sentiment 
though of the sweetest kind is never sickly ; whose religious feeling is never concealed 
yet never obtruded ; whose books are always good but never * goody.’ Little Ted 
with his soft heart, clever head, and brave spirit is no morbid presentment of the 
angelic child ‘ too good to live,’ and who is certainly a nuisance on earth, but a 
charming creature, if not a portrait, whom it is a privilege to meet even in fiction.” 

— The A cademy. 


MACMILLAN & CO., 

66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK. 

3 


THE CUCKOO CLOCK 


“ A beautiful little story. ... It will be read with delight by every child into 
whose hands it is placed.” — Pall Mall Gazette. 


GRANDMOTHER DEAR. 

“ The author’s concern is with the development of character, and seldom does one 
meet with the wisdom, tact, and good breeding which pervades this little book.” — 
Mat ton. 


TWO LITTLE WAIFS. 

“ Mrs. Molesworth’s delightful story of Two Little Waifs will charm all the small 
people who find it in their stockings. It relates the adventures of two lovable Eng- 
lish children lost in Paris, and is just wonderful enough to pleasantly wring the youth- 
ful heart.” — New York Tribune. 

“ It is, in its way, indeed, a little classic, of which the real^eauty and pathos can 
hardly be appreciated by young people. ... It is not too much to say of the story 
that it is perfect of its kind.” — Critic and Good Literature. 

“ Mrs. Molesworth is such a bright, cheery writer, that her stories are always 
acceptable to all who are not confirmed cynics, and her record of the adventures of 
the little waifs is as entertaining and enjoyable as we might expect.” — Boston 
Courier. 

“ Two Little Waifs by Mrs. Molesworth is a pretty little fancy, relating the adven- 
tures of a pair of lost children, in a style full of simple charm. It is among the very 
daintiest of juvenile books that the season has yet called forth ; and its pathos and 
humor are equally delightful. The refined tone and the tender sympathy with the 
feelings and sentiments of childhood, lend it a special and an abiding charm.” — Bos- 
ton Saturday Evening Gazette. 

“ This is a charming little juvenile story from the pen of Mrs. Molesworth, 
detailing the various adventures of a couple of motherless children in searching for 
their father, whom they had missed in Paris where they had gone to meet him.” — 
Montreal Star. 

“ Mrs. Molesworth is a popular name, not only with a host of English, but with a 
considerable army of young American readers, who have been charmed by her deli- 
cate fancy and won by the interest of her style. Two Little Waifs, illustrated by 
Walter Crane, is a delightful story, which comes, as all children’s stories ought to do, 
to a delightful end.” — Christian Union. 


MACMILLAN & CO., 

66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK. 

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